


Continuum

by GreyMichaela



Series: Never Ever [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Sex, BAMF Gabriel, Blow Jobs, But he's working on it, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Fewer cliffhangers this time I swear, Fluff, Frottage, Gabe is kind of an idiot sometimes, M/M, References to Aztec Religion & Lore, Time Loop, not as much angst this time I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-24 21:39:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1617965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyMichaela/pseuds/GreyMichaela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel, Sam, Dean and Castiel keep waking up to the same day on repeat, and Gabe had nothing to do with it this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [disheveledangelinatrenchcoat (bigblackhorse4)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigblackhorse4/gifts).



> Oh look, I'm still writing! Counting this work, I'm up to about 100,000 words, which is well over the size of an actual novel. That's what happens when characters eat your brain. Allow me to be a cautionary tale for you all.
> 
> This is for my beloved beta disheveledangelinatrenchcoat, who is a goddess when it comes to getting me unstuck on plot points and holes. I also got her shipping Sabriel thanks to this and South of the Border, and believe me when I tell you that I'm _still_ laughing over that little fact.
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy this one! Comments, as always, make me squee. _(What? I'm just saying!)_

**DAY ONE**

 

Castiel wasn’t in bed when Dean woke up.   The hunter stretched, enjoying the slide of satin against his skin, and listened for sounds of life.  He seemed to be alone in the room, so he sighed and got up, padding naked into the bathroom.

As vacations went, this one was pretty good.  Good food, no responsibilities, an endless supply of movies he’d been meaning to see, and all the cold beer he could drink.  What more could a guy want?

Arms slipped around his waist as he washed his hands and he leaned back into Castiel’s solid warmth.  Oh yeah, add great sex to that list.

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas rumbled in his ear.

Dean grinned and tilted his head back so he could kiss the angel. “Morning,” he said eventually, a little breathless.  “How are you today?”

Cas’s hands were sliding lower, skimming Dean’s hips and dancing over the tops of his thighs.  The angel hummed in the back of his throat and dropped his mouth to Dean’s neck, nibbling a line down to his shoulder.

“Oh,” Dean managed.  “That good, huh?”

Castiel murmured an affirmative as Dean turned in his arms and pressed their lips together.

They were both flushed when Dean pulled back far enough to breathe, panting hard.

“Bed?” he asked.

Castiel nodded and they stumbled out of the bathroom, unwilling to take their hands off each other long enough to see where they were going.

 

***

 

The tantalizing scent of crispy bacon and hot biscuits dragged Sam to the surface and he sat up in bed before he was fully awake.  Gabriel snickered from the kitchen.

“Figured that’d get your attention, Mount Everest.  Get your oversized frame in here and kiss me good morning, and maybe I’ll let you have some food.”

Sam swung his legs out of bed and stood up, stretching so that his bare torso was displayed to best advantage.  His pajama pants were riding low on his hips and he grinned to himself when Gabriel dropped the bacon he was transferring from the pan to the plate. 

“Dammit,” the archangel snapped.  He set the spatula down and swung around the counter, stalking across the floor with a determined scowl on his face.  “You have no right to be so fucking sexy, Sam Winchester,” he growled, shoving the hunter backward onto the bed.

Sam hit the mattress and bounced with a laugh, an archangel crawling up his body the next instant, hot mouth seeking his.  Sam arched into the kiss willingly, hands roving over the smaller man’s body, tugging his shirt up over his head.

 

The door at the end of the lodge opened and Harper came through. “Morning!” she said, and then gasped and covered her eyes.  “Seriously, guys, could you maybe _not_ do that where anyone could just walk in?  I’m going to barf!”

Gabriel lifted his head, eyes hazy with lust, and snapped his fingers. A large curtain unrolled from the ceiling, effectively closing off the bed on its dais.

“Yeah…that doesn’t help much,” Harper’s voice came from the other side. “I can still _hear_ you guys.”

Gabriel moaned in frustration and Sam snorted a laugh against the angel’s damp skin, fingers dragging up his sides. 

“Your friend is a champion cockblocker,” Gabriel hissed.

“I heard that,” Harper called.

Gabriel sat up with a huff as Sam laughed outright.  The angel pointed a finger at his lover, still sprawled beneath him. “To be continued, Winchester.”

 

**DAY TWO**

Castiel wasn’t in bed when Dean woke up.   The hunter stretched, enjoying the slide of satin against his skin, and listened for sounds of life.  He seemed to be alone in the room, so he sighed and got up, padding naked into the bathroom.

Arms slipped around his waist as he washed his hands and he leaned back into Castiel’s solid warmth.

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas rumbled in his ear.

“Déjà vu much?” Dean asked, smiling.

“It does seem remarkably similar to how we woke up yesterday,” Castiel agreed, pulling Dean around so he could kiss the taller man comfortably.

“Not complaining,” Dean murmured against the angel’s mouth.  “Bed?”

Castiel nodded and they stumbled out of the bathroom.

 

**DAY THREE**

“Okay, I’m just saying that seriously, three straight days of walking in on you two going at it like bunnies is getting a little fucking old!”

Dean stopped just inside the door.  Harper’s hands were on her hips and she was glaring at a chastened Sam, sitting on the edge of Gabe’s huge bed, and a scowling Gabriel standing next to him.

“Uh…am I missing something?” Dean asked.

“Other than the fact that your brother and his boyfriend have the sexual proclivities of dolphins and the social awareness of a couple of wombats? No, you’re not missing a thing!” Harper snapped.

“It’s getting to be a regular zoo in here,” Gabriel murmured and Sam tried to stifle a laugh without success.

Harper swung back to face them, murder in her eyes, and Dean jumped forward to intercept. “Something smells really good,” he said desperately, dragging her towards the kitchen.  “And you make coffee even better than Gabe does, so how about you do that while the idiots over there get dressed?”

Harper allowed herself to be towed away, her face promising mayhem to be visited upon Gabriel and Sam at a later date.

 

**DAY FOUR**

“OH, COME ON!”

Dean’s head snapped up from his thorough investigation of Castiel’s hipbone. Harper sounded _pissed._   They yanked clothes on and dashed into the living room.

“Just one day!  Is it too much to ask for just one day when I can come out and get breakfast without being mentally scarred? And while we’re at it, do we _have_ to have bacon and biscuits every damn day?  What, did phenomenal cosmic powers come at the expense of variety?”

Gabe blinked. “I thought you liked bacon.”

“I do! But four days in a row is getting a little old.  Can we maybe switch it up a bit?”

Dean cleared his throat.  “Come to think of it, Harper has a point.”

Gabriel glared at him.  “You don’t like what I make, _you_ fix breakfast tomorrow!”

“Fine,” Dean said, taken aback.  “But you’re getting plain oatmeal if you don’t watch yourself, smartass.”

 

**DAY FIVE**

_“Dean!_ ”

Dean looked up and Castiel moaned, grabbing his head and attempting to pull it back down.

“Dean, Cas, get your asses out here _now!”_

Harper. Pissed.  Not good.

The men dragged their clothes on and headed for the living room. Gabriel was standing next to the stove with a spatula in his hand, looking shell-shocked.  The scent of bacon filled the air.

“Okay,” Dean said carefully, “What the _fuck_ is going on?”

 

They settled at the table in the breakfast nook, the bacon shoved to the back of the stove and forgotten. 

“What’s today?” Dean asked.

“Thursday,” Gabriel answered promptly.

Sam shook his head.  “Yesterday was Thursday.”

“No, it was Wednesday,” Harper interjected.  “Today’s Thursday.”

Sam glanced at his watch.  “Shit. You’re right.  It’s Thursday.  I could have sworn…” He trailed off, looking uneasy.

“That it was yesterday?  Yeah. Me too,” Dean said, scrubbing his hands through his hair.

“But we don’t know for sure, do we?” Harper asked.  “I mean, we’ve been here a week and we haven’t really done anything noteworthy. The days could just be running together.”

“They could,” Gabriel said, “But that doesn’t explain why I was making breakfast this morning when yesterday we agreed Dean would do it.”

“This isn’t your doing, is it?” Dean demanded suddenly.

Gabriel looked affronted and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Why would he do that?” his brother said.  “He’s not trying to teach me any more lessons; he’s got no reason to trap us in another time loop.”

Gabriel quirked an eyebrow.  “What he said.”

“Yeah but…” Dean trailed off.

“Believe me, Deano, if I’d done this, and it’s not a bad idea – I kind of like having my own little pocket of time – I’d cop to it.  It’s not me.”

Sam sighed. “So what do we do now?”

“I’m calling Bobby,” Dean said, and dug out his phone. 

When the grouchy hunter answered, Dean put him on speaker.

“H’lo?”

“Bobby, what day is it?”

“Well, good mornin’ to you too, boy.  Nice to see Miss Manners’ been rubbin’ off on you.”

“Bobby, it’s important,” Dean said, rolling his eyes.

Bobby sighed. “It’s Thursday, ya idjit. The twenty-fourth of October. Why?”

“Was there anything weird about yesterday?”

“What? No.  Why would there be?  Is Sam there?  Everything okay?”

“We’re fine, Bobby,” Sam said, leaning forward.  “Something a little strange is going on, but everyone’s okay.”

The older man grunted, clearly not convinced.

“Bobby, what do you know about recurring time loops?” Dean asked.

“You mean like the one that damn Trickster stuck you and Sam in?”

Sam winced and glanced at Gabriel, who didn’t react except to cock an eyebrow at him. They hadn’t filled Bobby in yet on what exactly had happened in Mexico, and Sam wasn’t really looking forward to the grouchy older man’s reaction.

Bobby was still talking.  “I know it takes someone powerful, a god or a demi-god.  Yer average jumped-up demon or wanna-be witch couldn’t do it, I can tell you that much.  Are you _sure_ it ain’t the Trickster again?”

Gabriel lifted both brows this time and Sam cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, Bobby, we’re sure.”

 _Coward,_ Gabriel mouthed, and Sam lifted a shoulder, not quite meeting the angel’s eyes.  That was a conversation that needed to be had face to face, although preferably from a distance where Bobby couldn’t take a swing at him for being a “damn idjit”.

Dean cleared his throat.  “Bobby, could you hit the books for us?  See if you can dig up any more information?  We’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Yeah yeah, I ain’t got anything better to do than stick my nose in dusty old books for you two boneheads,” Bobby growled, and hung up.

“So now what?” Harper asked.

“Wait for tomorrow, see what happens.  Maybe we’re mistaken.” Gabriel didn’t look convinced by his own statement but no one felt inclined to challenge him.

“Just in case, I think we should switch things up tonight,” Harper said. “Sleep in different bedrooms.”

The men eyed her with respect. 

“I know,” she said complacently.  “If you guys had vaginas, you’d be smart like me too.”

Dean snorted. “Where do you want us, Gabe?”

Gabriel waggled his eyebrows and Sam elbowed him in the ribs before he could answer.

“Ow! It was a joke!” He rubbed his side and glared at the tall hunter, who looked unimpressed. 

“No sense of humor,” Gabriel muttered.  “Dean, you and Cas swap with me and Sam.  Harper, you can sleep on the couch.”

“Fine,” Harper said, “As long as there is _no sex_ happening with me in the room.  My sensitive mental state can’t take it.”

 

**DAY SIX**

The smell of bacon permeated the house and Dean sat bolt upright in his own bed before sagging back against the pillows.

“Well…shit.”

 

They gathered for another war council at the table, staring at each other.

“My watch still says Thursday,” Sam announced grimly.

Dean pulled out his phone and dialed Bobby’s number, setting the phone on speaker in the middle of the table.

“H’lo.”

“Bobby, what day is it?”

“Well, good mornin’ to you too, boy.  Nice to see Miss Manners’ been rubbin’ off on you.”

Dean looked up at Sam, panic in his eyes.  Sam swallowed hard.

“Bobby,” he said, “This is important.  Did we call you yesterday?”

“No,” Bobby said, his tone wary. 

“Are you sure?” Dean pressed, insistent. 

“’Course I’m sure, ya fuckin’ idjit!” Bobby snapped.  “I think I’d remember if you’d called me!  Why?  What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Sam said hastily.  “Nothing’s wrong. We’re fine.  Just a mix-up in communication, that’s all. We’ll talk to you later. Sorry to bother you. Bye!” He punched disconnect on Dean’s phone and shoved it back across the table to him.

“So whatever’s happening, we’re stuck in the loop but we’re retaining our memories of the day before,” Gabriel said finally.

“What now?” Sam said.

“Now Castiel and I start hunting for whatever the fuck this thing is,” the archangel said, and stood with an air of purpose.  “Strap your wings on, little brother, it’s time to play.”

There was a massive flap of wings and a _whump_ of displaced air and both angels were gone, leaving the three hunters staring at each other.

“Not sure I’ll ever get used to that,” Harper muttered.  She stood up and began to pace.  “So we just hang back at home, let the big boys scope out any trouble?  I feel like I should be knitting socks for the boys in the trenches or something.” She scowled at the neglected pan of bacon, then snatched a strip out of it and began to gnaw aggressively on it.

“I’m not any happier about it than you are,” Sam said, “But the truth is they’ll cover more ground this way and be back much sooner.  Staying out of their way really is the fastest way to do it.”

Dean stood up, restless.  “Help me clean up the breakfast mess, Sam.”

An hour went by, then two.  Everyone was getting antsy and Dean had to stop Sam from praying to Gabriel. 

“If he’s fighting something, praying to him right now could distract him enough to get him or Cas hurt.  Just let him be. He’ll be back when he can be.”

Sam gritted his teeth.  He knew Dean was making sense, but he was getting worried.  “Another hour,” he said.  “Then they need to get their feathery asses back here.”

Dean nodded, opening his mouth to speak, and Sam doubled over in pain. Dean grabbed for him as the hunter gasped desperately for air.

“ _Gabe,_ ” he managed. “Something’s happened to Gabe.”

Dean helped him to the couch while Sam clutched his side but he had barely a minute to worry about his brother’s obvious distress before he went to his knees himself, reeling.  It felt like he’d been kicked by a mule, a hard punch that knocked the wind right out of his lungs.

“Dean?” Harper’s voice sounded worried but distant.  She dragged him to his feet and helped him collapse next to Sam, crouching in front of the pair.  “What the fuck is going on?” she demanded.

“They’re hurt,” Sam gasped.  “Don’t…know about Cas, but Gabriel took a blade of some kind through his ribs. Oh _God,_ he’s in so much pain.  _Gabe._ ”

Another flap of wings and Gabriel and Castiel appeared in the middle of the room, both angels sprawling on the floor. 

Sam and Dean scrambled toward them, breath hitching desperately in their lungs. Sam rolled Gabriel onto his back, hands searching for his wounds.  He found it immediately; a large gash between his lower ribs that had sunk deep into the angel’s side.

Sam ripped his shirt off and applied pressure.  Gabriel’s eyes were closed, his face white. “Dean, how’s Cas?” Sam demanded.

“Not good,” Dean’s terse reply came.  “Harper, get me the first aid kit from Baby.  It’s in the trunk.  _Go._ ”

Harper dashed out the door as Sam met Dean’s eyes.  Their hands were already red to the elbows as they struggled to staunch the bleeding.

Gabriel’s pulse was fast and erratic, weak under Sam’s searching fingers.

“C’mon, dammit,” Sam growled.  “Don’t you do this to me again. Not after all we’ve been through. _Come on!_ ” He began chest compressions, counting off between pumps of his linked hands and tilting Gabriel’s head back to breathe into his airway every few beats.

He could hear Dean whispering behind him, something harsh and frenzied under his breath. Castiel groaned deep in his throat and there was the sound of scrabbling against the hardwood floor.

“No, be still,” Dean snapped.

“Let me go,” Castiel panted.  “I’m alright, Dean. I won’t die from this, but if I do not see to Gabriel’s wounds he _will_. Let me _go!_ ”

Dean snarled but he hooked the angel’s arm over his shoulders and dragged him closer to Gabriel’s still form.  Castiel reached out, chest heaving, and touched Gabriel’s hand.

Sam could feel the flesh knitting itself back together under his bloody hands and then Gabriel sucked in a deep breath and began to cough as Harper burst back in the door with the kit.

Castiel collapsed, eyes rolling back in his head, and Dean felt for his pulse. What he found seemed to reassure him, because he straightened and nodded.

“He’s out cold but his heartbeat is strong.  He hasn’t lost near as much blood as Gabe.  I think he’ll be okay.”

Sam peeled Gabriel’s torn shirt away from his skin, heart in his throat. The stab wound was much smaller and only a small trickle of blood oozed sluggishly out, but Sam still swallowed hard at the sight.  He set to work cleaning the site while Harper pulled bandages out.

Sam didn’t look up until the wound was cleaned and wrapped, focused on making sure Gabriel’s heart rate stayed steady.  Finally he dragged in a deep breath and sat back on his heels.

“How’s Cas?” he asked.

“Still out,” Dean said from where he was kneeling next to his angel. “Gabe?”

“Bleeding’s mostly stopped.  Let’s get them to the bed.”

The hunters each took one of Gabriel’s arms while Harper picked up his feet and the three of them carried him as gently as possible up the dais steps. Sam supported the archangel’s head as they laid him out, then they went back for Castiel.

The angel moaned as they lifted him and Dean’s mouth tightened.  Once he was settled next to Gabriel, Sam and Dean stood back and looked at the two.  Castiel’s eyes were twitching under his lids, but Gabriel lay motionless.

“What the hell goes up against an angel and a fucking _archangel_ and comes out on top?” Harper asked quietly.

“I don’t know, but we’d better find out really fucking soon,” Dean said.


	2. Chapter 2

**DAY SEVEN**

Dean sat up straight, his heart racing.  “Cas? _Cas!”_

The angel appeared in the room, whole and healthy, no blood streaking his ever-present trench coat. 

Relief flooded Dean and he hurled himself out of bed and grabbed Castiel by the arms, checking him all over for injuries.

“You’re okay? Are you okay?  How do you feel?  Cas, talk to me!”

The angel caught Dean’s hands and stilled his frantic search.  “I’m fine, Dean,” he said, and Dean closed his eyes on a long, shuddering breath.  “It would appear that any wounds sustained disappear when the loop resets.”

Dean tugged Cas in close and pressed their foreheads together, holding the angel with an edge of desperation.  Castiel slid his arms around the hunter in turn and they stood quietly, breathing each other’s air.

“You scared the shit out of me, you stupid son of a bitch,” Dean growled.

“I am sorry,” Castiel whispered, and his lips moved against Dean’s jaw, making the hunter shiver.

“We need to know everything we can,” Dean said, swallowing hard, “But right now…right now I just want to hold you.  Need to know you’re okay.”

Cas nodded and then his lips were on Dean’s, desperate and devouring. He backed them toward the bed as Dean’s hands pushed off his coat and tore at his buttons, shoving the layers out of his way so he could slide his fingers across the angel’s bare skin with hungry desperation.

“Need you,” he whispered against Castiel’s mouth.  “Need you so much.”

“You have me,” Castiel murmured, and then words were forgotten as he dropped his head to Dean’s collarbone and sucked hard enough to bring the blood to the surface.

Dean groaned, fingers sliding through his angel’s dark hair.  Cas smiled against the hunter’s skin and then they were tumbling onto the bed in a flurry of tangled limbs, Castiel sprawled across his lover’s chest.

Dean gasped beneath his weight, pulling the angel’s head down so he could kiss him thoroughly, Castiel opening willingly to his lips and tongue. Their breath merged in short puffs and stifled whimpers and Dean thrust upward, his erection sliding against the jut of Castiel’s hipbone.

“Want you,” Dean whispered.  “Want you inside me. Please?”

Castiel’s eyes fluttered closed and he took a deep breath. 

“On the nightstand,” Dean said helpfully.

Cas snorted a laugh and leaned across his lover’s body, grabbing the bottle of lube and then settling between Dean’s legs.  Squeezing some liquid into his palm, he trailed a slick finger up Dean’s thigh, moving closer to his opening as the hunter quivered beneath him.

He advanced and retreated, barely brushing the tightly furled muscle before pulling away again and turning his attention to other parts of Dean’s anatomy.

Dean growled deep in his chest.  “ _Stop teasing_ ,” he demanded.

Cas smiled against the hunter’s leg, tongue flickering out to taste the sweat-dampened skin.

 _“Cas.”_ He wasn’t whining. Dean Winchester didn’t whine.

The angel took pity on him and slipped his first finger inside. Dean’s back arched as he gasped, rational thought scattering.  He welcomed the burn and stretch as Cas scissored his fingers, opening him wide, prepping him with gentle inexorability.  All too soon Dean was writhing, wanting, _needing_ more.

“Please,” he managed.  “Please Cas, now.”

The angel looked up at him, blue eyes blown so wide with lust they were almost black. He had to clear his throat several times before he could speak.

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

Dean nodded frantically, reaching down and pulling Castiel up with both hands until he was draped over the hunter, nose to nose.  Cas leaned down and kissed him, sweet and slow.

“I love you,” Castiel whispered, and sat up.

Dean looked at his angel, hair wild and on end from Dean’s fingers, eyes dark and mouth red from kisses, and swallowed hard, love swamping him so wildly he couldn’t breathe.

Then Castiel was at his entrance, sliding in, filling him until all Dean’s nooks and crannies and shadows were taken up, chased away, flooded with brilliant light. Dean sobbed once, hard, and hooked his heels around his angel’s hips as Castiel began to move.

His surroundings fell away, narrowing to dark blue eyes fixed on his, deep thrusts that robbed his lungs of air, reminding him with every long slide that he was loved, he was cherished, he was _worthy_.

Cas folded forward, hips never losing their rhythm, and captured Dean’s mouth again. Dean was inching closer to the edge with every movement, his skin tingling and over-sensitized. Castiel worked a still-slick hand between them and palmed Dean’s length and Dean gasped for air against the angel’s mouth, jerking with each stroke of Castiel’s hand.

“Cas, Cas, I’m gonna…”

The angel growled into his neck and Dean stiffened, pleasure whip-cracking through him, coming over Cas’s hand in long, hot pulses.

A heartbeat later Castiel followed, hips jerking as he emptied with a desperate moan muffled against Dean’s skin.

He collapsed in a boneless heap across the hunter, face still buried in Dean’s neck, and they lay quietly, soaking in the feel of each other, reveling in the knowledge that they were together, safe and loved.

Harper’s voice from the living room shattered the peace.  _“You have got to be kidding me!”_

Dean snickered as Cas’s head snapped up, startled.  “I’m guessing Sam had a very similar reaction to finding Gabe was okay and Harper just walked in on them.”

Cas’s lips twitched, fighting a smile.  He leaned down and kissed the hunter.  “Perhaps we should go out and…mediate,” he suggested.

“Mm. I’d rather stay here and make out,” Dean said, and pulled the angel’s head back down to his.

 

When they finally made it out to the main room, Sam and Gabriel were dressed and Harper was sulking on the couch, her arms folded.

“I need to get laid,” she announced to the room in general.  “Or I’m going to lose my fucking mind and jump one of _you_.”

Gabriel smirked and opened his mouth and Sam lunged for him, his huge hand covering nearly half the archangel’s face as he clamped it over Gabriel’s mouth.

“Don’t even _think_ about it,” the hunter hissed.

Gabriel’s toffee-brown eyes gleamed, unrepentant, over Sam’s paw and Sam’s lips twitched in spite of himself.

“Dammit, you perv,” he growled.  “I don’t do threesomes.  And Harper’s practically a sister to me, I am _not_ sharing you with her.”

“You’re so helpful to my ego,” Harper called, scowling.

“You’re gorgeous and you know it,” Sam said, still holding Gabriel’s mouth shut. “And I’ve already apologized for this morning, but I really wasn’t thinking very clearly at the time. I’ll do whatever I can to help you get laid, but it isn’t gonna be with me or Gabe.”

Dean dropped next to Harper and draped an arm over her shoulders as Cas sat down in the chair opposite.  “Sucks, I know.”

Harper sighed and leaned back against the hunter.  “I hate you all.”

Dean pressed a kiss to her sleek hair.  “No you don’t.”

Sam pulled his hand away from Gabriel’s mouth.  “Are you going to behave?”

“Highly unlikely,” Dean observed before the archangel could answer.

Sam sighed and began piling plates with food.  “Come and get it, you idiots.”

They gathered at the kitchen table to eat.  By unspoken agreement, no one mentioned the events of the day before until their plates were empty.  Finally Dean pushed back with a happy groan.

“So, Gabe. Wanna tell us what the hell happened?”

Gabe lifted a shoulder, scooting his chair sideways so he could lean against Sam, who raised an arm to settle the angel in comfortably.

“Not sure how much I can tell you,” Gabriel said.  “We felt a massive power spike from New Mexico direction, so Castiel and I popped over to do a little sightseeing.  We ended up way the hell and gone out in the middle of the desert. I think it was the ruins of a really old temple, but I couldn’t tell you which one.  Aztec or Mayan, maybe?  I always get those mixed up.

“Anyway, we showed up and there was this dude standing there practically naked, painted with red and white stripes and with feathers and shit hanging off him. Not a good look, if you want my opinion, but I’m not the fashion police.”

“He also had a black mask on,” Castiel interjected.

“Thanks bro, you’re right,” Gabriel said.  “Anyway, he had a quiver slung over his shoulder and a bow in his hands. He had some chick laid out on the altar and he was…um…” He glanced at Harper.

“What?” she demanded, nettled.  “Don’t you dare censor on my account or I’ll kick your feathery ass.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes.  “Fine, see if I try to spare you any psychological trauma in the future.  He’d cut her open and he was eating her heart, okay?”

“That sucks,” Harper said, “But why exactly would I be traumatized? I’m a hunter, remember? I’ve seen more than my fair share of death and gore over the years and dealt it out myself plenty.”

“Because she looked like you, okay?” Gabriel snapped.  “Same hair, same skin tone, same body type; hell, I thought it _was_ you until we got a little closer!  Cas, back me up here.”

“He is correct,” Castiel said quietly.  “I’m sorry to alarm you, Harper, but she did resemble you to an uncanny degree.”

Sam’s arm tightened around the archangel and he exchanged an alarmed look with Dean. Harper swallowed hard but said nothing.

“So we introduced ourselves,” Gabriel continued, and Castiel snorted.

“You said, ‘Hey bro, how’s it hanging?  Eaten anyone good recently?’” he said. 

“Same thing,” Gabriel said, shrugging.  “Anyway, he must’ve been kinda jumpy, because he didn’t say anything; just turned around and threw a fucking _spear_ at me.”  He sounded so outraged that Dean had to fight amusement in spite of himself.  “Cas jumped him while I was busy pulling the damn thing out of me, but turned out he was really fucking strong and he basically batted us around like we were rubber bouncy balls for awhile.  Blood loss was making it hard for me to think toward the end, so it’s a good thing little brother here retained all his brain cells and zapped us back here.  That’s about all I can tell you.

“Well, that and the fact that I started this morning in an unventilated skin suit, frying bacon again, and then Sam jumped me without warning.”

“I didn’t hear any complaints at the time,” Sam pointed out.

“Not complaining now either,” Gabriel said, tilting his head to the side in a clear invitation.

Sam smiled down at him and kissed him deep and slow.

Dean cleared his throat pointedly.  “Make out later,” he said.  “Strategize now.”

Gabriel pouted.  “Cas, how do you put up with this killjoy?”

“He has a few redeeming qualities,” Castiel said, his voice dry.

Dean glared at him.  “More than a few, pal, and watch it or I’ll be forced to remind you what they are.”

“I look forward to the lesson,” Castiel said, and there was definite amusement in his voice. Dean narrowed his eyes but the angel just tilted his head, a smile tugging at his mouth.

“Can we get back to the creepy dude with the human sacrifice that _looks like me_?” Harper said.

“He didn’t give me his business card,” Gabriel snapped, and Sam’s arm tightened. “Sorry,” the angel amended. “I know you’re freaked out, but I can’t really tell you anything else.”

“We’ll figure this out,” Sam said, his voice full of confidence.  “It’s probably just a coincidence, in any case.”

“Don’t you patronize me,” Harper snapped.  “Maybe it’s just a stupid coincidence, or maybe it’s something more, but I swear to God if you use your FBI voice on me again I will _kick your ass_ and you know I can, _Samuel_ ; I’ve done it before.”

The men fell silent.

“Has she really?” Gabriel asked, his tone awed.

Dean nodded, grinning.  “It was a thing of beauty.  She had the moose flat on his face and pinned four times out of the five that they went. I think I still have the video on my phone.”

“Oh, I have _got_ to see that,” Gabriel said.

Sam cleared his throat loudly.  “Moving on!”

Gabriel mouthed _later_ at Dean, who nodded, trying to hide his smile. 

“What’s the plan?” Harper asked.

“Well,” the archangel said, stretching lazily against Sam’s bulk, “Personally I think we’ve earned a day off.  So let’s hang out here today, maybe Sammy’d like to do some research into candy-cane striped freakazoids in black masks?”  Sam made an agreeable noise in the back of his throat.  “Then tomorrow we’ll throw ourselves back into the fray. Although whether this works or not, I expect plenty of blowjobs for the effort, because I don’t put myself in harm’s way for just anyone.  Are you taking notes, Mount McKinley?”

Dean plugged his ears before Sam could respond.  “We are _not_ talking about your bedroom activities, Gabe!  Sam, can you put a gag on your boyfriend, please?”

Gabriel’s eyes lit up as Sam’s hand clamped down over his mouth again and the archangel made muffled disappointed noises against it.

“You are one kinky bastard,” Dean said, but he didn’t bother fighting the grin. “Good luck with him, Sammy; you’re gonna need it.  Cas, you’re with me.” He stood up and held out his hand, pulling him across the room towards the hall.

“I’ll just go hang out with some porn on my own then, shall I?” Harper shouted after him.

Gabriel managed to dislodge Sam’s hand.  “I’ve got an excellent collection if you’re interested.”

Harper perked up.  “Really? I didn’t see any with the other movies.”

“It’s got its own room.  C’mon, I’ll show you.” He stood up and leaned over to kiss Sam.  “You get to work on that research, yeah?  I’ll be back to badger you mercilessly in just a minute.”

 

Out in the corridor, Dean was heading for their bedroom, still gripping Castiel’s hand tightly.  He shut the door behind them and pressed himself up against the angel, wanting, _needing_ to feel that reassuring warmth and solidity one more time.  Cas’s arms snaked around his waist, pulling him tight. 

Dean dropped his head to the angel’s shoulder and took a deep breath, soaking up comfort from Castiel’s touch. 

“Listen, Cas, we need to make sure that no matter what happens, this house is protected and Harper doesn’t leave it.”

Castiel nodded silently against Dean’s hair. 

“I don’t even know what we’re protecting ourselves _from_ ,” Dean mumbled, his shoulders slumping.  “But Harper has to be kept safe.  She’s our priority, okay?”

“Of course, Dean,” the angel said, cupping Dean’s face with one warm hand. “Gabriel and I will go over the wards together and be sure that nothing can get in.  We will keep her from harm.”

Dean sighed, lifting his head.  “I know I don’t tell you…I don’t say that I…I’m not good with words, dammit. But I l-”

Cas cut him off with his mouth, gentle but firm, sweet but possessive. “I know, Dean,” he whispered finally. “I love you too. You don’t have to say it for me to know. It’s there in everything you do. I read it on your face when you look at me; I hear it in your voice when you speak to me.  I feel it in your fingers on my vessel.  Hearing the words is not necessary to me; I have never doubted your love for me.”

Dean closed his eyes, leaning in.  He was suddenly exhausted, all the worry and stress from thinking he was going to lose his angel and the new fear of Harper being a possible target overwhelming him. He was too tired to even make a crack about chick flick moments.

Castiel guided him across the floor and onto the bed.  “Rest,” the angel murmured.  “Sam is seeking information and Gabriel and I will work on the house wards. You’ll think more clearly when you wake up.”  Warm, dry fingers brushed his forehead and Dean spiraled into sleep with a grateful sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters are a little shorter, so I'm going to be posting a little more frequently. Closer to every other day rather than twice a week.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember the teeth thing? Gabe does.

Gabriel came back into the main room to find Sam hunched over his laptop at the kitchen table, his huge hands tapping deftly at the keys, brow furrowed in concentration. The archangel frowned and snapped his fingers.

Sam jerked at his sudden relocation to the couch.  “Dammit, Gabe, I wish you’d warn me before you pull shit like that.”

Gabriel smirked up at him from his position flat on his back, head comfortably in Sam’s lap. “You looked uncomfortable and I thought I’d help.  You’re welcome.”

Sam huffed a laugh and threaded his fingers through the archangel’s hair. “Yeah, and you needed physical contact. I’m not stupid, you know.”

Gabriel blinked.  He knew Sam wasn’t stupid; hell, that was one of the things he loved most about him. But it seemed he’d forgotten just how _perceptive_ the kid could be. He shifted position and opened his mouth but Sam shut his laptop and bent to kiss him.

Sam’s lips were soft and undemanding, love and reassurance in every touch. His tongue brushed Gabriel’s mouth and the archangel opened willingly for the hunter to dip inside, leaning up to give him better access.

Sam jerked and then there was a thump of something hitting the floor and he groaned against Gabriel’s lips.  “That…probably wasn’t good for my poor computer,” he gasped.

Gabriel sat up and swung his leg over Sam’s lap, crowding him against the cushions as the hunter leaned back to look at him, smiling.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Gabriel said, and then he was kissing him again, desperate for contact, to be as close as possible.  He _needed_ , his skin burning with ferocious want and desire.

“Why aren’t you naked?” Sam whispered, nibbling along Gabriel’s jaw.

Gabriel grinned suddenly.  “Remember that teeth thing you suggested?”

Sam stilled. “You’re kidding.”

“What, you’re not up to the challenge?”

Sam’s eyes narrowed.  “You’re going to be sorry you said that,” he husked, and Gabriel shivered.

“Mouth only,” he managed to say.  “I’ll move how you want me, but you can’t use your hands at all.  Got it?”

Sam was looking thoughtful; eyeing the archangel like he was a map and Sam was Lewis. Or maybe Clark.

“Bed,” he finally said, and Gabriel scrambled to his feet.  Sam crowded behind him, a solid line of heat and insistent hardness pressing against his back, and Gabriel leaned into him as Sam pushed him up the dais and onto the mattress.

Gabriel rolled onto his back and was treated to Sam stripping off his shirt, eyes dark and intent.  The hunter crawled onto the bed, bracketing Gabriel with arms and legs.  He leaned in and brushed his lips against the corner of the archangel’s mouth but pulled away when Gabriel tried to follow the kiss, grinning wickedly.

Gabriel groaned in frustration but got the hint.  Sam was in charge. 

The hunter sat back on his heels, studying Gabriel’s clothes.  The angel was wearing a button-down shirt and jeans, one of his usual comfortable outfits, and he couldn’t help but stretch, preening a little under Sam’s hot gaze.

Sam leaned down and closed his mouth over the first button and Gabriel gasped at the feeling of those mobile lips and tongue brushing against his skin, warm breath raising the hairs on his chest.

Sam had the button tongued free in no time and Gabriel couldn’t help an appreciative laugh.

“Not bad, Fuji,” he said.

Sam lifted his head.  “Are you just working your way through mountain ranges?” he asked.

Gabriel shrugged.  “Maybe.”

Sam snorted and bent to the next button.  “You are so lame,” he mumbled around a mouthful of fabric.

Gabriel forgot his smartass reply when Sam flicked the second button out of its hole and pressed his mouth to the skin it revealed.  His hot, wet tongue dragged up Gabriel’s chest and the angel gasped, writhing, and fisted his hands in the bedcovers to keep from grabbing the hunter’s head.

All too soon, Sam was on to the next button.  He worked his way down Gabriel’s abdomen, balancing himself above the angel’s prone form, eyes narrowed in concentration. 

Gabriel was finding it difficult to remember how to drag air into his lungs. Sam focused on a task was one of the hottest things in his experience anyway, and when _he_ was the task?  It didn’t get any better than that.

Sam dragged the last button free with his teeth and the shirt fell open to expose Gabriel’s stomach.

The angel bit back a muffled groan and Sam looked up, brow lifting.

“Problem?” he inquired.  “Because I can stop.”

Gabriel shook his head desperately.  “Don’t...not if you want me to live.”

Sam pressed his lips to Gabriel’s stomach and then looked up again as if daring the angel to say something.  Gabriel whimpered but held still.

Sam’s mouth quirked and he began peppering the soft surface with light kisses, covering every inch available.

Only when Gabriel was laughing at the tickling of his lips did Sam stop, grinning at his lover.

“Fine, you ass,” Gabriel said, catching his breath.  “I get it.  Now could you please continue before I expire of the bluest of balls?”

“Oh, I suppose,” Sam said carelessly.  “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”  He slid down on the bed until his mouth was hovering over Gabriel’s belt, and the angel’s dick gave an interested twitch in his pants.

Sam set his teeth in the leather and began to pull, wrestling the belt free with sheer force of will.  The jeans’ button was a little more difficult, but Sam managed it eventually, huffing in triumph. After that, the zipper was easy.

Then he sat back in dismay and Gabriel couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up at the look on the hunter’s face.  “Need some help, Samosa?” he said.

Sam ignored him, leaning into Gabriel’s side and biting down on the waistband of the jeans. His nose brushed soft skin and Gabriel swallowed hard.  Sam tugged and the pants slid down a few inches, Gabriel lifting his hips to assist. The hunter moved to the other side and repeated the process, pulling the jeans down by inches.

Far from being bored or losing interest, Gabriel was finding himself harder than ever by the laborious striptease.  Sam’s breath was hot on his skin and he ached to be touched all over. He wanted to beg the hunter to put his hands on him, but he knew he’d be denied, so he kept his mouth shut, with effort.

The angel found himself moving helplessly against Sam’s lips, craving contact, chasing his mouth and the warmth of it, but Sam kept his touches light, never giving Gabriel the satisfaction of feeling anything for more than a split second.

The angel was panting, his whole body shuddering by the time Sam had wrestled Gabriel’s jeans down far enough for his cock to slide free.  It jutted up stiff and desperate and Gabriel couldn’t stop the whine that fell from his mouth when Sam didn’t immediately touch it.

“Please,” he whispered.

Sam cocked his head.  “But I’m not done undressing you,” he pointed out.

“Don’t care,” Gabriel snarled.  “The…salient points are available for you to…investigate further.  Dammit, Sammy, _please.”_

Sam’s lips twitched.  “Your begging’s improved,” he observed, and swallowed Gabriel’s length down in one smooth motion.

Gabriel came up off the bed with a strangled cry and Sam began to move, mouth and tongue working together to drive Gabriel up to the brink over and over with sweetly cruel precision.

Again and again, always backing off at the last second, until Gabriel was frantic, babbling in broken Enochian, his eyes wild and every muscle whipcord taut.

Finally Sam relented and closed his mouth around Gabriel’s shaft. He swirled around the frenulum and Gabriel’s back arched, mouth shaping Sam’s name as he came, shaking and crying out, into Sam's welcoming heat.  Sam swallowed again and again, hands steady on the angel’s hips, bringing him back down from the peak with loving movements of his tongue.

Only when Gabriel’s breathing had steadied to something more approaching normal did Sam pull away and slither up the bed, collapsing against the angel’s side.

Gabriel brought a lazy hand up and slid it through the hunter’s hair, cradling the shape of his skull with his palm.  “Toppy bastard,” he said, affection warm in his voice.

Sam hummed and pushed his jeans down, his hips rocking against the angel’s sweat-slick thigh; not demanding, just enjoying the friction.

“What do you want, Sam?” Gabriel whispered.  “My hand? My mouth?  My ass?”

Sam closed his eyes.  “This,” he managed. “Just want this.”

Gabriel turned on his side just enough that he could kiss the hunter without straining and slid his tongue inside Sam’s mouth, licking him open and tasting himself on the hunter’s tongue.  Sam groaned and his hips began to thrust harder, rolling against Gabriel’s leg in a steady rhythm.

His head fell back and he panted for air, the lines of his neck standing out in sharp relief, and really, when was Gabriel ever going to turn down an invitation like that? He dove in, licking and suckling his way up the miles of throat so trustingly offered, tasting salt and need on his tongue.

Sam’s hips stuttered and Gabriel growled deep in his chest. He was close.  Just needed a little push over the edge.  The angel leaned in under Sam’s ear and bit down on the tendon hard, and Sam nearly _wailed_ as he came in hot, pulsing throbs against Gabriel’s leg.

Gabriel sighed happily and pulled away enough to examine the indentations his teeth had left on Sam’s throat.  It was going to bruise.  Gabriel laved the marks with his tongue in a brief caress and then settled onto his back.

Sam dropped his forehead to the angel’s shoulder with a heartfelt moan.

“Gonna live, kiddo?” Gabriel asked, sliding fingers up and down the taller man’s spine.

“Jury’s out,” Sam said, his voice muffled.

Gabriel grinned up at the ceiling.  “I don’t know about you, but I would deem the ‘undressing with teeth’ experiment a resounding success.”

“Mm.” Sam sounded more than halfway to sleep, drunk on pleasure.

Gabriel pressed a kiss to his soft brown hair and pulled him a little closer. Sam went willingly, draping one long arm over the angel’s chest and snuffling against his skin.

“Want me to heal that bruise for you?” Gabriel asked.

"Mng." Sam's emphatic denial was unintelligible but obvious for all that he couldn't actually be understood.

Gabriel snorted softly. "Okay. Have a good nap."

 

He waited until Sam was sound asleep before snapping himself out of bed and back into his clothes and going in search of Castiel.  He found him upstairs in the library, poring over an ancient manuscript.

“Whatcha doin’, little brother?” Gabriel said. He pulled a lollipop out of his pocket and stuck it in his mouth, leaning over to look at the piece of vellum.

“It’s a list of early Mesoamerican gods and goddesses,” Castiel said, sliding the parchment towards the archangel. “I thought perhaps we could find something in there that resembled what we went up against.”

Gabriel wrinkled his nose. “Research.  Boring.”

“Dean also asked me to double-check that the wards on your house were completely secure,” Castiel said. “Maybe you’d like to do that instead.”

Gabriel snorted. “Ain’t nothin’ getting through my wards, Cas.”

“Lucifer did,” Castiel pointed out.

Gabriel sputtered. “That was…different!”

Castiel tilted his head. “In what way?”

“Well, he…I mean…obviously he…oh, _fine._   I’ll go check the fucking wards!  Are you happy?”  Gabriel stalked away, back rigid, without waiting to see Castiel’s reaction.

He found Harper in the hall.

“Hey, how’d you like my porn collection?” he said.

“Dude, it’s _amazing,_ ” Harper said, grinning.  “I can foresee myself spending many a happy hour in there.  What’re you doing?”

“Checking the wards,” Gabriel said. He pulled another lollipop out of his pocket and offered it to the young woman.  “In fact, you might come in handy.  Wanna help?”

Harper accepted the sucker and followed him down the hall.  “Sure, why not? Nothing better to do. Maybe I’ll learn something.”

Gabriel grinned at her. He’d found himself liking the young woman from the start; well, except for the slight hiccup over her kissing Sam. But then, who could blame her? Sam _was_ pretty damn hard to resist.

He headed outside, waiting for Harper to grab her boots and coat. 

“You don’t need to stay warm?” she panted, struggling through the snow after him.

He winked at her. “Archangel.  Impervious to the weather kinda comes with the gig.”

“Nice,” Harper said enviously.

Gabriel stopped in the middle of the snowy expanse and kicked off his shoes and socks.  “Need contact with the ground for this one,” he explained when Harper looked quizzical.  He stamped his feet a few times and waited as the snow began to melt around him in a twenty foot circle, humming under his breath. 

Finally it was cleared, the wizened grass cold and brittle under his bare soles.  Gabriel beckoned to Harper, who obediently stepped into the circle with him.  Then he closed his eyes, holding his hands out, palms down, and began speaking.

He loved the Enochian language, the rolling, powerful syllables, the connection to home that it always gave him when he chose to use it.  A shimmer rose from the ground that he could see behind his closed lids, a pulse of magic connecting him to the land that he had claimed as his own.  When he centered himself like this, he could sense anything sentient within two hundred miles.  It was one of the reasons he chose to live in the middle of nowhere; too much contact with other living things wore down his shields and exhausted him.

He poured more power into the shield and felt it snap into place above them in a shining dome nearly twenty miles in circumference.

“ _Holy shit,_ ” Harper breathed beside him.

Gabriel reached out and took her hand, turning to face her.  With his free hand, he began tracing symbols on her forehead, the Enochian sigils for _belonging,_ _protected, safe, whole._ His other hand kept steady contact with hers, pouring the spell from the ground into her and from there into the dome in a continuous loop.

Harper gasped for breath, eyes huge.

“Easy,” Gabriel murmured. “Be done in a sec. Just trust me, okay?”

She swallowed hard and stood still.

“Good girl.” He could see why the Winchesters liked her so much.  She had nerve to spare.  He kept tracing the sigils as he spoke the words that formed the backbone of the spell, reinforcing that Harper was to be cherished, cared for, and kept safe above all things.

Finally Harper was covered with an almost invisible glimmer, the magic clinging to her like a second skin.

“Shoes off,” Gabriel said, and she obeyed quickly, hissing at the cold ground.

The last link of the spell snapped into place through her bare feet and she yelped, shivering like she’d been dunked in a bucket of ice water.  Which, in a way, she had, Gabriel thought, amused.

He dropped her hand and grinned at her as she hopped up and down from one foot to the other.

“What the fuck _was_ that?” she demanded.

“Put your shoes back on,” Gabriel said, bending to do the same.  “It’s kind of hard to explain, but I basically tied you to my security system. Anything attacks you, I’ll know about it, and within this dome I’ll be able to pinpoint your location within ten feet. Outside the dome I can find you within half a mile, so do me a favor and stay within it for now, okay?”

“So that’s it?” Harper said, straightening.  “Stay inside and I’m safe?”

“Well,” Gabriel amended. “Mostly.”  He turned and headed for the house and Harper spluttered behind him and then dashed to catch up.

“What do you mean, _mostly_?” 

“These are the outer wards,” the angel explained.  “The house itself is sealed and warded as well, and I’ll need to integrate you into those as well.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun,” Harper muttered.  She tripped over a root and flailed, Gabriel catching her elbow to steady her. She twitched her arm away and stopped suddenly.  Gabriel turned to face her, startled.

“You okay?”

“I…yeah,” she said. “Look, there’s something I wanted to say to you, and this is the first time I’ve had you alone, so I’m just gonna say it.”

Gabriel frowned, confused. “Spit it out before you choke on it, would you?”

“This thing with you and Sam,” Harper blurted.  “Is it…are you serious about him?”

Gabriel’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. “Am I _serious_ about Sam?” he repeated.  “Are you trying to ascertain my intentions toward the younger Winchester? Forgive me; I was unaware that I went about this in the wrong order. Should I have gotten your _permission_ before I pursued him?” He took a step toward her, letting his easy-going mask slip and giving her a glimpse of the ancient being behind it, with powers beyond her comprehension and the temper to match. “Perhaps I should have petitioned you for his hand in marriage first.  Is that the correct way to do it?”  His eyes were glowing blue, he knew, and his wings had flared wide, mantling in his anger, even though she couldn’t see them.

Harper swallowed hard and took a quick step back, then planted her feet and lifted her chin. “I know you could squash me like a bug,” she said, her voice _almost_ steady. “And if that’s what you’re going to do, then do it and get over it.  But if you’re going to leave Sam heartbroken again, then I’m telling you right now that you’d _better_ kill me, because otherwise I’ll spend the rest of my life hunting you down.  I saw what you leaving did to him the first time. I won’t…I _can’t_ watch him go through that again.”

Gabriel was utterly still for a long moment. He’d forgotten how to pass as human in his surprise; he’d stopped breathing and was as still as a marble statue, staring with ageless eyes at the young woman who faced him with head held high. He could feel the terror that beat frantic wings inside her skull but still she stood her ground, refusing to move.

This… _this_ was what Sam Winchester inspired in people.  This fierce, unswerving loyalty, the unshakable conviction of doing the right thing no matter the personal cost.  Gabriel closed his eyes suddenly, shaken to his core. When he opened them, he was human again, his eyes toffee-brown once more.

Harper watched him warily, poised to fight or run.

Instead Gabriel bowed, and if it was mocking, it was directed at himself.

“Harper Montgomery, you humble me,” he said quietly.  He took two quick steps forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead as she held perfectly still, blinking in shock.  Then he stepped back and met her eyes.  “Sam Winchester and I are soul-bonded,” he said.  “But I fell in love with him long before that bond was forced upon us to save my life. I have no intention of doing anything to him that will cause him pain ever again, I swear to you by my Father. And if I do, then you have my permission to come after me.”

Harper watched him warily, the tension beginning to seep from her muscles.

Gabriel grinned suddenly, holding up two fingers.  “Scout’s honor.”

The young woman snorted and socked him in the shoulder and Gabriel allowed it to rock him in place a bit.

“Like _you_ were ever a Scout,” she said, and turned for the house.

Gabriel caught up quickly. “Who do you think you have to thank for those delicious cookies?”

“Gabe, you idiot, that’s the _Girl_ Scouts!”

He blinked, stomping snow off his shoes at the door.  “Oh. Right.  I always get those mixed up.”

They were laughing when they walked back inside.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam was awake when Gabriel and Harper came into the living room, hunched back over his computer. He glanced up, seeming a little surprised at their easy camaraderie, and Gabriel smiled at him. Harper headed for the kitchen, clearly determined to find food.

“Back to work already, Sam-I-Am?” Gabriel dropped onto the couch next to the taller man and yawned.  “Find anything good?  Or did you get distracted by porn?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You have me confused with my brother.”

Gabriel leaned against him and squirmed until Sam took the hint and draped a long arm across the archangel’s chest. Gabriel happily wriggled into a comfortable position and rested his feet on the arm of the sofa.

“So what’ve you found out?” he asked.

“Not a lot,” Sam confessed. He turned the laptop towards Gabriel’s prone form.  “Wikipedia is being less than forthcoming.  I can find all sorts of stuff about ancient gods, but nothing that really seems to fit your description.  I’m still looking, but this may take awhile.”

“Mixcoatl,” Castiel said from the doorway.

Sam and Gabe glanced up. Castiel was holding the parchment he’d been perusing earlier, excitement on his face.

“Bless you,” Gabriel said.

“Mish-co-what?” Harper asked from the kitchen.

“Mish-co-ahtle,” Castiel said clearly. “Mixcoatl.  He was the god of the hunt, worshipped by the Aztecs. He was the patron deity of the Otomi, in central Mexico, and he’s usually identified with the Milky Way, the moon and stars.”

He held out the parchment to Sam, who looked at it, blinking. 

“Does it say how we can kill him?” Harper asked. 

Sam was already busily typing on his laptop again.  “Aha! Here he is.”  He turned the computer toward Gabriel.  “That look like the guy that knocked you around like a child’s plaything?”

Gabriel gave him a dignified glare. “Less of the ‘plaything’, if you don’t mind.”  He squinted at the screen and nodded.  “Yep, looks like him. Candy-cane stripes and all.”

Dean wandered into the room, yawning and rubbing his face.  “What’d I miss?”

Castiel turned to greet him. “We think we know who’s causing the time loop,” he told the hunter.

“Awesome,” Dean said, sitting down next to Sam.  “Does it say how we can kill him?”

“Still looking,” Sam said absently.

Harper threw her hands in the air in disgust.   “I don’t know why I bother,” she muttered.  “Not like anyone around here even listens to me.”  She sat down in the chair next to Castiel and glowered at the brothers, their heads together over Sam’s computer.

“Looks like he’s celebrated during the Aztec month of Quecholli, which is basically October twenty to November eight,” Sam said.  “During that time, his worshippers would sacrifice a man and a woman to him.  Was there a man in the temple with him?”

Gabriel glanced at Cas. “Not that I saw. What about you, little brother; did you see anyone else there?”

Castiel shook his head. “I was a little…busy, though,” he said. “Maybe we just overlooked him.”

“Or maybe he hasn’t found him yet,” Sam suggested.  “Maybe that’s why the day keeps resetting.  He hasn’t found the right sacrifice, or something.”

The group contemplated that as Sam clicked through pages, muttering to himself.  “Aha!  No, wait, that doesn’t help.”  He went back to reading, frowning.

Finally he looked up. “Still not sure how to stop him, but lore seems to be that either his three brothers or his sons killed him. Doesn’t say with what, though.” He pushed the computer away and pinched his nose.  “My head hurts.”

Gabriel reached up from his prone position on Sam’s other side and pressed a palm to the hunter’s forehead.

Sam sighed in relief. “I could’ve just taken an ibuprofen,” he pointed out.  “But thank you.”

“Who needs ibuprofen when you have me?” Gabriel countered.

Sam shrugged.  “Feels like…cheating, I guess.”  He leaned down and kissed the archangel, lingering on his mouth.

“Just because your life’s been hard up till now, Sammy,” Gabriel said, cupping his jaw, “Doesn’t mean you can’t accept it when nice things happen to you.  And I am the _nicest_ thing, after all.”

Sam smiled down at him, eyes tender.

Dean cleared his throat and both men looked up, startled.

“Kindly no making out in front of us, yeah?” Dean said. 

“Especially not in front of the one person in the room not getting any on a regular basis,” Harper chimed in. “Thoughtless much?”

Gabriel just smirked, unrepentant.

“I’d apologize,” Sam said, “But after all the time you spent with your tongue down Cas’s throat in front of me, I think I’m due a little payback.”

Dean scowled.

“Not as much fun from the other side, is it?” Sam said, grinning.  He pulled his computer back into his lap and started typing while Dean sputtered.

“That’s my boy,” Gabriel said fondly, patting Sam’s thigh.

Quiet descended on the big room as Sam dug through obscure documents, murmuring to himself. Castiel went back to the library to look into manuscripts that weren’t online and might have a clue to the Aztec god’s demise.  Harper was drumming her fingers on her thigh, frowning into space, and finally Dean caught her eye.

“Something eating you?”

Gabriel snorted. “Nice choice of words, pal.”

Dean winced.  “Sorry, Harp.  Didn’t mean it that way.”

Harper lifted a shoulder. “I know.  I just…keep thinking about the girl in the temple. The sacrifice.”

“Because she looks like you?”

“No.  Well yeah, actually, that too, and thanks for reminding me. But I mean, whatever we’re experiencing isn’t really that bad, although we’re trapped.  But she…she basically wakes up every morning only to die by having her heart cut out and eaten.  And that’s just a really shitty thing, I think.”

“That’s if it’s the same girl,” Dean said. “We talked about her looking like you; maybe he’s got a type, and he’s searching for the proper sacrifice. Trying different girls; looking for the right combination, sort of.”

“So it’s a different girl each morning that has her heart ripped out?”

Dean shrugged helplessly. “Maybe?”

“That doesn’t make it any better,” Harper decided.

Gabriel sat up, startling Sam. “I think you’re onto something there, Harper.  _Cas!_  Get in here!”

Castiel appeared in the living room, looking confused.

“Harper made a good point just now,” Gabriel said.  “About the female sacrifice. Maybe the loop has to do with not finding the right one.  So if he does find the perfect woman to murder horribly, then he ascends to power or whatever ancient mad gods do in their spare time.  _But_ what if we stop him before he kills her?”

“Get there first?” Castiel asked, eyes narrowing in thought.  “It might work.”

“Wait, whoa,” Sam said, alarmed. “Gabe, you’re talking about going back up against the guy that took you two apart and didn’t even break a sweat. We don’t know what kind of weapons work against him, if there _are_ any…” He hesitated.  “Hey, what about…Lucifer’s blade?  Do you think it’d be-”

Gabriel was already shaking his head. “Angel blades work from archangels on down.  Anything below an archangel in the hierarchy, it’ll take out without a sweat, but gods are above its pay-grade.  It’s the only thing that is, sadly.”

“Figures,” Sam grumbled. “Anyway, we barely know anything more than we did this morning, except his name!”

“Which is why I have you,” Gabriel said. “Find out if there’s anything that can at least slow this asshole down long enough for us to snatch the girl and get out of there with her.  Maybe if he doesn’t have her to complete the ritual, it’ll break the loop. It’s worth a try, right?”

“I don’t like it,” Dean said, scowling.

“Color me unshocked,” Gabriel said.

“I mean it, dammit,” Dean insisted. “I don’t like your odds. I don’t like the fact that last time you went toe to toe with this guy, you nearly died, Gabe, and Cas barely had enough strength to drag your sorry ass back here _and_ heal you.  Now you want to waltz _back_ in there and tangle with him again?  Who’s to say he won’t just go find another girl and keep going?  You’re swapping one victim for another, and I don’t see how that helps anyone.”

“Not to mention that we don’t know what would happen if you _were_ to die in this loop,” Sam said.  “Call me nuts, but I’d rather not gamble with your life.  Until we have more information, I don’t think you should go back there.” He glanced up at Harper, his mouth twisting.  “I hate the idea of this girl dying every day, Harp, I really do.  But I don’t think we’re ready to face Mixcoatl again yet.”

Harper nodded, mouth tight. “I get it.  I don’t _like_ it, but I get it.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Castiel said, “I think I’m getting somewhere with my research.”  He disappeared without waiting for them to answer, and Sam rubbed his face.

“Back to it.  Gabe, any chance of some food?”

“I could be persuaded to rustle something up,” the archangel conceded.

Dean made gagging noises. “If it involves more tonsil hockey between you two, then don’t bother getting anything for me. ‘Cuz I’m suddenly not hungry.”

Sam sighed.  “Dean, a word?”  He stood up and walked toward the door without looking back to see if his brother was following.

Dean closed the hall door behind them and Sam turned to face him.

“Do you actually have a problem with me and Gabe, or are you just making these comments as payback for the way I reacted when I found out about you and Cas?” 

Dean’s mouth fell open but Sam barreled on.  “Because I have to tell you, the digs are getting a little old.  I love Gabe.  I know you don’t like him, and I’m sorry.  I know he can be an ass, I know he gets under your skin.  But dammit, Dean, he’s _it_ for me, okay? And I need you to be okay with this, because I can’t take much more.  So can you find a way to accept this, or do we need to take a break from each other for awhile?”

Dean took two quick steps toward Sam and grabbed his shoulders, green eyes stricken.

“ _Sam_. God, Sammy, I’m sorry. Gabe annoys the shit out of me, you know he does it on purpose, and I can’t help reacting when he pokes me, but I never meant to hurt you.  I didn’t…shit. I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Look, you’re happier than I’ve seen you since…well, since Jess.  I’ve been an asshole.  I’ll stop, okay?”

Sam sighed, the tension rushing out of him.  “So, you’re okay with…us?”

Dean dragged the taller man into a hug. “Sam, I’m okay with anything that makes you happy.  Can’t say I think much of your taste in guys, and I can’t guarantee I’m going to stop going after Gabe when he makes a dig at me, but I’ll quit with the running commentary. Okay?”

Sam hugged him back, closing his eyes as relief filled him.  “Okay,” he said. “Yeah.  Thanks, Dean.”

Dean pushed away a bit and grinned at him, cuffing him on the back of the head.  “Get back to work, you giant nerd.  I’m going to go help my angel do research.”

Sam snorted.  “No sex in the library, Dean.”

Dean cheerfully flipped him off as he headed down the hall, and Sam was laughing when he let himself back into the living room.  Gabriel met his eyes, a quizzical look on his face.  Sam grinned at him, feeling lighter than he had in days.

The archangel smiled back and turned to Harper.  “What are you in the mood for, food-wise? Let’s go consult in the kitchen and leave Sam to his scholarly ways.”

 

Dean climbed the curving staircase to the library, smiling when he saw Castiel leaning over a pile of yellowed parchment, rolled up scrolls, and ratty old books that were threatening to take over the entire table.  He looked up when Dean appeared at the top of the stairs, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

“Is everything okay, Dean?”

“It’s fine,” Dean said, smiling at him. “I just wasn’t needed in there, so I thought I’d come keep you company.  How’s the research coming?” 

The angel smiled back and rubbed his eyes. “I keep thinking I’ve found something, but it’s like a thought that you chase through the back of your mind, slipping just out of sight before you can put a finger on it.  I’m close, I think, but I’m going in circles.”

Dean stepped around the table and closed the gap between them.  “Maybe you should take a break,” he suggested.  He slid a hand under the trench coat, curving it around Castiel’s sharp hipbone.

Castiel sighed even as he allowed himself to be tugged toward the hunter.  “I cannot take a break, Dean.  I have to keep looking.”

“Okay,” Dean whispered. He was nosing the angel’s neck, his breath ghosting along Castiel’s skin and raising the tiny hairs there. “You keep looking. I’ll…occupy myself.”

Castiel shivered as Dean kissed his clavicle, unbuttoning his shirt just far enough to reach.  “Dean…” His voice was unsteady.  “I can’t…I have to…”

“Do what you gotta do, sweetheart,” Dean murmured into his skin.  “Don’t mind me.”  He unbuttoned the shirt a little farther and slipped a hand inside, enjoying the shudder that went through the angel. 

He trailed his fingers up the Castiel’s chest, along his neck until he was cradling his jaw and the angel was meeting his eyes.

“Hello, gorgeous,” Dean said, smiling.

Castiel sighed and leaned into his touch. “You are a bad influence, Dean.”

“I know,” Dean agreed. “It’s one of my favorite things about me.” 

He tugged Castiel’s head forward and their mouths met.  He reveled in the sweet caress of tongues and lips, the tiny sighs and whimpers that dragged from Castiel’s lungs.

When he pulled back, the angel’s eyes were dazed.  Dean smiled at him and went to his knees.

Castiel gasped above him. “What…Dean, no! In Gabriel’s library?”

Dean tilted his head back. “Well, you’re working,” he pointed out. “So I can’t really drag you off to our bed to have my way with you, can I?  So you just…do whatever it is you’re doing and pretend I’m not even here.” His fingers were working to unbuckle Castiel’s belt even as he spoke, and the angel groaned, lost for words.

Cas’s pants were tented, and Dean took a moment to enjoy the sight.  Leaning forward, he breathed warm air into the straining fabric, and grinned when the angel jerked.

“Dean…”

The hunter hummed acknowledgement and mouthed at the bulge, and Castiel’s hands came up and slid into his hair.

Dean unzipped the pants and pushed them down, trailing his fingers up through the fine hair on Castiel’s lean muscled thighs.  He swallowed hard and leaned his head against the angel’s hands, delighting in the feel of being cradled in his lover’s palms even as he tugged at Cas’s boxers, pulling them down to pool around his ankles.

He sat back to appreciate the view of Castiel’s cock at eye level, flushed and at attention, and the angel’s hands tightened on his head, a silent plea.

Taking pity on him, Dean wrapped his fingers around Castiel’s thighs, holding him steady as he leaned forward and slipped just the head of the angel’s shaft into his mouth.

Castiel groaned above him, his legs rigid with the effort of not fucking forward into Dean’s mouth as the hunter sucked lightly at the tip of his cock, sliding his tongue up and over the sensitive frenulum.

He spent several long moments doing that, delighting in the feel of his lover’s thick weight in his mouth, the way Castiel trembled with every pass of his tongue, his hands tightening in Dean’s hair but only accepting what Dean chose to give, never demanding.

Dean closed his eyes and swallowed the angel down, and Castiel made a startled noise, hips thrusting before he could stop himself.  Dean relaxed his throat and pressed further, his nose brushing the soft curls at Castiel’s abdomen, and then he swallowed.  Castiel choked on a sob, muscles hard as iron beneath Dean’s hands.  Dean pulled back far enough to take a breath and then slid down again, taking it slow enough that his gag reflex didn’t kick in.

When his throat was relaxed and wide around Castiel’s cock, Dean took another deep breath and then…stopped moving.

Castiel waited, every muscle tight, but Dean stayed still until the angel got the hint and moaned, choked and desperate, and began to move his hips.

Tentatively at first, afraid of hurting the hunter, but as Dean stayed pliant and welcoming around his shaft, Castiel moved with more confidence, sliding all the way into Dean’s mouth and back out, hands still on the hunter’s head, a thumb unconsciously caressing his cheek.

Dean hummed encouragement and Castiel shivered hard, hips speeding up.

He was close, Dean knew, and he gripped the angel’s thighs tighter, desperately hard but unwilling to take a hand away from his lover’s skin to touch himself.

Above him, Castiel groaned brokenly and then stiffened as his cock swelled and he came in shuddering gasps down Dean’s throat.  

“ _Dean…_ ” His hands flailed for purchase, scrabbling on the table and knocking books and papers everywhere before he caught his balance and locked his knees to keep from collapsing on top of his lover.

Dean soothed him through it, rubbing the indentations his fingers had left on Castiel’s legs. Finally Cas sighed, pulling at Dean’s shoulders until the hunter unfolded from the floor and stood up to kiss him. 

“Thank you,” Castiel murmured against his mouth.  His hand snaked down between them, caressing the bulge in the hunter’s jeans as Dean sighed happily.

Then he froze and Dean opened his eyes, startled.  The angel was staring over his shoulder at the table, eyes fixed on the scattered documents.

“Cas?”

“I…Dean…” The angel leaned around Dean’s arm and plucked a piece of paper from the pile, staring at it wide-eyed. “Dean, this is it. This is what I was looking for. It’s an old formula, ancient even by my standards; it’s a…a recipe, a sort of how-to guide, _Dean,_ this could be what we need to stop Mixcoatl!”

Dean groaned to himself. He’d lost him. Castiel’s eyes were bright, standing there naked from the waist down and completely unaware of anything but the paper gripped in his hand.

He bent and pulled Cas’s boxers up, settling them into place before tugging his pants up over his hips and zipping them.

“Oh.  Oh Dean, I’m sorry.  Here, let me-”

Dean stopped the angel before he could sink to the floor.  “You have work to do.” He leaned forward and kissed him. “Come find me later, yeah?”

Castiel smiled into his eyes. “I will.” He kissed him back but Dean could tell his mind was already back on the problem at hand.

Dean smiled and took a step back, discreetly adjusting himself with the heel of his hand as he headed for the stairs.

“Dean.” Cas’s voice stopped him before he’d gotten far, and he turned around, lifting an eyebrow.

“Thank you.” The angel smiled at him and Dean winked.

“My pleasure,” he said, and took the stairs two at a time, whistling.  That had gone well.  He had high hopes that it would go even better once Castiel was able to focus on something other than stopping a mad Aztec god.


	5. Chapter 5

Gabriel was back in his favorite position on the couch when Dean came back into the living room, the archangel’s head in Sam’s lap and feet dangling over the arm of the sofa. He glanced up as Dean approached.

“Have fun?”

Dean sent him a one-fingered salute and made a beeline for the kitchen and the feast spread out on the counter. He chortled happily to himself as he began piling a plate.  Whatever could be said about Gabriel, and Dean had said a _lot,_ the angel knew food and he didn’t stint.

He collapsed in the chair next to Harper and began to eat.

“Cas thinks he’s found something that’ll help,” he said around a mouthful. 

Sam grunted.  “I think I have too.”  He turned the laptop towards Dean, who leaned over to look.

“Is that a spear?”

“It’s the same fucking spear that the bastard gutted me with,” Gabriel said, disgruntled, and Dean stifled a snort of amusement.

“I don’t have hard proof,” Sam said, “But it looks like this is what Mixcoatl’s brothers used when they killed him.”

Dean winced.  “His own weapon?  That’s cold.”

“Hey, whatever works,” Sam said. “But from what I can gather, it may not be enough on its own.  Or it’ll slow him down, but not stop him permanently.  I’m still looking.”

“I believe the answers you seek lie here, Sam,” Castiel said, and everyone but Gabriel jumped.  “I found this during my…research.”

The angel was holding the piece of paper he’d found on the table, and Dean smirked to himself when Cas cut his dark blue eyes toward the hunter and then away before meeting his gaze.

“What is it?” Sam asked, holding out his hand.

Cas passed him the paper and went to stand next to Dean as Gabriel made grabby motions at the page until Sam held it where they could both see it.  “It is a very, very old formula, and I would like Gabriel to double-check my translation, but I believe it contains a spell that, once bound to the spear, will enable us to stop Mixcoatl permanently.”

Dean tugged on Castiel’s hand, scooting over in the armchair.  The angel frowned down at him.  “We will not fit, Dean,” he pointed out.

Dean pulled harder and Castiel sighed in exasperation and collapsed half on top of him.  Dean grunted and Castiel squirmed, muttering under his breath. Harper didn’t bother stifling her laughter, watching them struggle to both get comfortable.

“You guys are a train wreck,” she observed.

Dean shoved his plate at her and poked Castiel in the ribs, making him jerk away and glare at the hunter. The grin on Dean’s face mollified him and he relaxed, sliding down in the upholstery until he was pressed against the hunter in a warm line from hip to ankle. 

“Oh,” he said.  “This is…nice.”

“Told you,” Dean said smugly.

Castiel frowned at him again. “No you didn’t.”

Dean cupped the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss.  “You are _such_ a nerd.”

Gabriel cleared his throat pointedly. “If you guys are quite finished being adorable, maybe you could shut up and listen for a minute?”

Dean broke away, a little embarrassed, and cleared his throat.  “Right, yeah. Sorry.  Carry on.”

“Cas, what I’m seeing is that it calls for venom or poison from four different animals, as well as a few other arcane ingredients.  That about what you got?” Gabriel sounded preoccupied, his voice serious.

Castiel nodded.  “Read the part at the bottom.  Does it translate the way I think it does?”

Gabriel scanned the page, lips moving as he translated the faded script.  “The blood of the…virgin, no, the pure…shit, that could be read either way, shall sanctify the…edge.  And it shall…drink its…fill? Oh, that doesn’t sound good.”

Dean shifted, suddenly nervous. “What does it mean?”

“Well, at first blush, kid, it sounds like we’re going to have to sacrifice a virgin to make this spell work. Hold your horses, though, I’m not done yet.”

Silence fell as the archangel read, his mobile lips moving soundlessly, a crease between his eyebrows. He sat up and dropped his feet to the floor and glanced at Castiel, still squeezed into the chair next to Dean.

“Snake, spider, frog and scorpion, huh? Sounds appetizing.”

“What, no eye of newt?” Dean quipped.

Neither angel took note of him.

“When do you want to collect the specimens?” Castiel asked.

“Well, best to start early in the morning, isn’t it?” Gabriel said.  “Since I don’t have most of what we need and it’s going to take most of the day to gather everything, not to mention the time we’ll need to put the spell itself together.  So, first thing tomorrow morning, I’d say.  Cas, let’s go back to the library and make a list of everything we’re gonna need.”

Both angels disappeared and Sam and Dean locked eyes.

“I don’t like this,” Sam said quietly.

“Join the club.” Dean ran his hand through his hair.

Harper sat forward. “What the hell was that all about, anyway?”

“Nothing good,” Dean said. “I don’t know what they’re going to need to create this spell, but it sounds ominous as all fuck.”

“So what do _we_ do?” Harper demanded.

“We wait,” Sam said.

“Oh, _that_ sounds like fun,” Harper said, slouching in her chair and scowling.

 

Sam woke up the next morning to the smell of fried bacon but no archangel in the kitchen.  He sat up in bed, alarmed.  “Gabe?”

There was no answer.

Sam got up and tugged a shirt on and sent up a quick prayer.  _Gabe?  Uh, can you hear me? I just…oh man, I feel stupid. But you’re not in the kitchen and I’m thinking if you were in the house you would’ve heard me, and um…okay. Just…be safe._

Harper poked her head in the door, eyes firmly covered.  “Please tell me everyone’s decent.”

“It’s just me and I’m fully dressed,” Sam said.  “Gabe’s gone.”

Harper looked up at that, alarmed. “Is he okay?”

“I’d feel if he weren’t,” Sam said, “But he didn’t say goodbye and I have no idea where he is.”

“Man, I _hate_ waiting,” Harper complained.  She stomped into the kitchen and started piling a plate with food. “And I’m really sick of biscuits.”

Sam joined her, nudging her with an elbow. “What, not the bacon?”

“Are you kidding? I’m pretty sure it’s physically impossible to be sick of bacon.” She grinned up at the tall man, who smiled back at her as Dean came through the door, looking worried.

“Hey man, have you seen Cas?”

“No, but I’m assuming he’s with Gabriel,” Sam said.

“This fucking sucks,” Dean growled. “Aren’t we supposed to be the ones actually doing the heavy lifting?  I feel like a kept woman here.”

“Come eat, princess,” Sam said. “You have to keep your strength up.”

He was rewarded by a middle finger as Dean stalked toward them, and he grinned to himself.  Being the emotional cheerleader for their little team was tiring at times, but worth it.

 

Gabriel had started the morning in the kitchen, but he’d instantly scooped Castiel up from his early morning prowl outside and relocated them to the mountain overlooking his home. He listened to Sam’s prayer with a smile on his face and then turned to his brother.

Castiel was looking around. “Why are we here, Gabriel? Shouldn’t we be collecting ingredients for the spell?”

“We’ll do that next,” Gabriel said. “I want to try the other thing first.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “Going back to the temple to try to rescue the girl?  Gabriel…did you lie to Sam and Dean?”

The archangel tried for shocked but had a feeling he ended up closer to shifty.  “I would never!  I just…never agreed not to try.”

“Gabriel…” Castiel looked more disappointed than angry.

“Look, bro.  We have a chance to try and save this girl’s life. You can’t tell me you don’t want to do that.  Besides, I have it all planned out.  We’ll go in there cloaked, so he can’t see us.  We’ll grab the girl out from under his stupid pointy nose and we’ll hightail it out of there. No fighting.  Just in and out.”

Castiel sighed, but finally he nodded. That was all Gabriel needed. They spread their wings and slid between dimensions with the flick of a thought.

The temple was dark, the sun still not up and no light from the weak moon filtering through the tiny stone slits on the walls.  Good thing angels could see in the dark.  Mixcoatl stood in the center of the hard-packed dirt floor, his back to the angels, facing the altar as he chanted in Nahuatl, the ancient Aztec language.

It had been a long time since Gabriel had heard Nahuatl spoken, longer given the truly out of date verbiage the red and white striped god was using, but bits and pieces came back to him as he and Castiel listened.

It was a spell cloaked as a prayer for the sun to rise, to bless the land and its occupants, a seeking of peace and prosperity on all under Mixcoatl’s benediction.  Sounded nice on the surface, Gabriel thought. Too bad it also called down fiery death and pestilence on all nonbelievers, which included most of the world these days, and needed the lives of two innocent people to trigger the spell. That, he had a bit of a problem with.

Gabriel took a silent step to the left as Castiel moved to the right.  The scene was a little changed this time, he realized.  The girl _was_ different, almost identical to the one he and Castiel had seen last time but with higher cheekbones and shorter hair.  This one looked even more like Harper, Gabriel realized, and she was also already dead, her chest cavity a red gaping ruin, dark eyes vacant and filmed over in death.

_Well, shit._   

The archangel took another step and saw another body stretched out on the altar next to the girl. _Oh, fuck me seventeen ways from Sunday,_ Gabriel thought. It was a young man, his eyes closed but his chest rising and falling shallowly.  Mixcoatl had found his other sacrifice, apparently.

_Still alive but up next on the menu, soon as Asshole here finishes gnawing on the girl’s internal organs._ Gabriel gnawed on his lip, considering his options, and glanced at Castiel.

The angel signed to him in rapid movements, the language learned in the garrison so many thousands of years ago. _Female lost.  Take male?_

Gabriel nodded and just then the god at the altar spun around, staring directly at him, and roared in fury. Blood covered his face and chest and dripped from his hands, and the insanity in his eyes was echoed in his voice.

_Make that twenty-seven ways from Sunday._ Gabriel moved, a blur of speed as he dodged sideways toward the god and away from Castiel, hoping to keep Mixcoatl’s attention on him.  He needed that damn spear, in any case.  If he could draw the guy away from the altar, separate him from the weapon…he ducked a three hundred pound stone slab that whistled by over his head. _Superhuman strength, check._

The next few seconds were a jumble of dodging and weaving, feints to try to assess any weak spots; _the fucker didn’t seem to_ have _any,_ Gabriel thought, frustrated, and hoped like hell that Castiel had gotten to the altar and away with the young man.

A quick glance showed the dark-haired angel struggling with the bonds that tied the man to the stone. Gabriel dodged a jab with the spear and closed in, swinging a hard fist into the god’s ribs.

Mixcoatl shook it off like a mosquito landing on him, striding forward and batting Gabriel across the temple floor with a viciously well-aimed blow.  Gabriel hit the wall with stone-shattering force and slid down to land in a heap, stunned, as the Aztec closed on him, lifting that _fucking_ spear yet again.

_Sam was going to_ kill _him,_ Gabriel thought.  And then Castiel was there, a limp body draped over his shoulders, reaching down to clasp Gabriel’s arm in one hand as he dragged them through the dimensions and unceremoniously dumped all three of them on the floor in the living room of the lodge.

All three hunters jerked upright. Sam got to them first, his face white. Gabriel was still dazed from the blow to the head and finding it difficult to organize his thoughts.

He blamed that later for what came out of his mouth as Sam reached for him, cradling his head with those beautiful hands, worry and fear naked on his face.

“You have sunflowers in your eyes,” Gabriel informed him, and passed out.

 

When he woke up, it was dark outside and the curtains around his bed had been dropped, hiding them from the rest of the lodge.  Gabriel tried to sit up and a large hand pressed him into the mattress.

“Don’t even think about it,” Sam growled.

Oh yeah.  Sam was _pissed_. 

“I feel fine,” Gabriel pointed out. Castiel must have healed him. “Hold up some fingers, I’ll count them for you.”

Sam leaned over and turned on the bedside lamp and picked up a small penlight so that he could check the archangel’s pupils.  Gabriel submitted with poor grace until Sam dropped his hands and sat back on his heels.

“What’s the verdict, doc?” Gabriel asked.

Sam looked at him, unsmiling. “You’ll live.” He moved to stand and Gabriel blinked, startled.  That wasn’t the reaction he’d expected.

“Sammy?”

The hunter whirled on him, green eyes bright with fury.  “You _do not_ get to call me that right now,” he hissed.

Gabriel’s eyes widened and he pushed himself to a sitting position.  That went beyond being pissed.  He bit his lip, trying to think of something to say to diffuse the tension.

Sam ran a hand through his hair and took a step away from the bed, back to the angel.  His body was rigid with stress and his hand was trembling, Gabriel noted.

He’d fucked up, the angel suddenly realized.  And he had absolutely no idea how to fix it.  Apologizing wasn’t going to cut it this time.

“Sam…” Gabriel’s voice was quiet. “Will you at least look at me?”

Sam was still a moment longer, and then he sighed and turned around. 

“The guy we rescued,” Gabriel said, “Is he okay?”

Sam nodded jerkily. “He’ll be fine.”

“Okay, good,” Gabriel said, sighing. “Can you…will you sit down? Please?”

Sam hesitated but finally sat down on the edge of the bed, as far away from the angel as he could get, staring at his large hands between his knees.

Gabriel’s heart stuttered, a painful little clutch. Angry, he could have dealt with. Given him some snappy comebacks, made the kid shout a bit, let the aggression and fear out.  And the angry sex would have been _glorious_ , he thought a little wistfully.

But Sam wasn’t angry now. He looked…defeated.

Gabriel swung his feet to the floor and stood up, rounding the bed to stand in front of the hunter. Sam _flinched_ when Gabriel touched his shoulder, and he might as well have stabbed the archangel in the heart.

Gabriel pulled his hand away and dropped to his knees.  Sam looked at him, startled. The angel shuffled forward until he was between Sam’s feet, his hands loose on his thighs, very carefully not touching the hunter at all.

Instead he flared his wings out to either side of him, letting them fall carelessly to the floor, and then slowly and deliberately bowed his head, baring his neck.  He was a warrior, born and bred to fight. Sure, he’d made language his bitch over the millennia, but sometimes the really important things needed to be said without words.

Gabriel was in the penitent position, that of an angel submitting to one higher in rank for the punishment they deemed fit.  It was not an attitude that came naturally, and he found his breathing was catching in his throat as he kept his head down, hands clenching spasmodically.  He’d been alone so long, he hadn’t had to consider someone other than himself for so many years that he’d lost count long ago, and he’d forgotten how to be part of a unit, to have others dependent on you, to depend on them yourself. He’d been stupid and rash and careless, and he deserved whatever Sam gave him.

Sam was utterly still, frozen above him. The hunter was smart. He knew exactly what Gabriel was saying. But he didn’t move; just sat there without saying anything.

Gabriel was beginning to tremble. Not from the strain of the position, but from the rush of terror that had suddenly seized him. What if Sam rejected him? What if he decided that he couldn’t live like this, with a reckless wildcard who couldn’t be trusted? _What if he left?_

Then Sam’s warm hands were on him, cupping his jaw and pulling Gabriel’s face up.  There were tears in the hunter’s eyes, and Gabriel’s heart stopped. In the next instant he’d surged up and into Sam’s embrace, knocking him backward onto the bed as he wrapped desperate arms around the taller man’s body, twining himself around him like an octopus, draping his wings like a heavy silken blanket over both their forms.

“I’m sorry, Sam, I’m so sorry,” he whispered over and over, willing Sam to believe it, to forgive him, _to not leave him_ , _please Father don’t let him leave me_.

Sam’s arms came up and cradled him, holding him tight even as Gabriel tried to burrow closer.

The flow of words trailed off and Gabriel buried his face in Sam’s throat, breathing in his familiar scent and letting it steady his frantic heartbeat.

They lay there for what felt like forever. Gabriel was game for that; anything that meant he could keep his hunter in his arms, but Sam finally stirred and Gabriel reluctantly loosened his grasp so Sam could sit up.

The hunter sighed and ran his hands through his hair as Gabriel sat up next to him, then leaned in and kissed the angel, soft and sweet and barely there.

When he pulled back, there was the hint of a challenge in his eyes.  “Do I have to say it?” he asked quietly.

“If it makes you feel better,” Gabriel said.

Long fingers caught his chin and pulled his gaze up to meet Sam’s.  “Don’t you _ever_ do something that fucking stupid again,” the hunter growled, “Without consulting me first. Are we clear?”

Gabriel just nodded. Sam closed his eyes briefly and then he was kissing the archangel with more force, his need and love and fear bleeding through and making Gabriel’s head spin.  He caught Sam’s shoulders to steady himself, suddenly dizzy, and whined in protest when Sam broke the kiss.

“The others are worried about you,” the hunter said gently, but there was a smile in his voice.

Gabriel sighed and vanished his wings, standing up.  “Can’t keep my public waiting, I guess.”

“Dean’s probably going to try to punch you again,” Sam said, rising as well.  “And I may or may not stop him.  Haven’t decided yet.”  He pulled the curtains back before Gabriel could come up with a snappy retort, revealing Dean and Castiel on the couch, watching them with anxious eyes.

Dean hid his relief behind a scowl, standing up and glaring at the archangel.  “The next time you decide to drag my boyfriend into one of your stupid fucking hare-brained fucking _stupid_ schemes, how about you _don’t,_ okay? You could’ve gotten him killed, you giant _ass!_ ”

Sam reached down and took Gabriel’s hand, smoothing his thumb over the knuckles as the archangel just nodded, his heart easing at his lover’s touch.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” he said. He would _not_ bare himself to Sam’s brother, but he still deserved an apology. He’d put Castiel in danger, after all.

Gabriel glanced at Castiel, standing behind Dean.  His hair was more mussed than usual, his lips bitten and red.  And he had…Gabriel looked closer and his mouth fell open. The angel had a line of _hickeys_ up and down his throat, marking his pale skin with vivid bruises.

Gabriel glared up at Sam. “How come _they_ got to have angry sex and all we did was cuddle?”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t rule angry _anything_ out just yet,” he said, and his voice was dry even as his lips twitched.

Gabriel’s heart eased a fraction more and he squeezed Sam’s hand.  He could work with this.

“Where’s the kid we rescued? And Harper?”

“He’s asleep.  Cas put him under until you woke up,” Dean said. “Harper’s watching him.”

Gabriel nodded.  “Okay.  Well, let’s wake him up.  See if he knows anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave me ALL THE FEELS. Don't mind me, I'm just over here drowning in Gabriel emotions.


	6. Chapter 6

The young man was in Dean and Castiel’s bedroom, a limp sprawl across the bedcovers.  Harper sat in a chair next to him, reading a book. She looked up when they entered, and relief washed over her face.  Standing, she crossed to Gabriel and hugged him tight, then pulled away and slapped him sharply.

Gabriel winced.  “Ow.”  He glanced at Sam, who was fighting a smile.

“I’m sure it’s already been said by everyone else,” Harper said, “But you are one stupid son of a bitch and I am so glad you’re okay.”  She hugged him again and then stepped back.

Gabriel rubbed his stinging cheek. “Wow.  Sure is nice to have people that care.”  His tone was dry, but it _was_ nice. He wasn’t used to it, wasn’t sure he’d _ever_ really be used to it after so long alone, but he couldn’t deny the warmth that washed over him. Sam squeezed his hand again.

Castiel moved to the bed and everyone gathered around, gazing at the young man asleep on the covers. Gabriel hadn’t gotten a good look at the kid in the temple.  He was young; a few years younger than Sam from the looks of it.  Black hair fell over a high forehead and his closed eyes moved restlessly under heavy lashed lids.

“He’s cute,” Gabriel commented, and everyone looked at him.  “What? He is!”

Castiel rolled his eyes and touched the young man’s forehead.

Dark eyes opened slowly, awareness creeping in, and then the kid was rolling across the covers, landing on the floor on the far side of the bed with a thud and scrambling to press his back against the wall.

No one moved for a breathless, startled moment, and then Harper stepped around the bed, hands out, moving slow.

“It’s okay, you’re safe,” she said, her voice quiet.  “I’m Harper. You’re safe, I promise. What’s your name?”

The young man looked at her, blinking several times.  “Eli. Vega.”  His voice was a soft rasp, hesitant and unsure.

Gabriel took a step forward. “Do you remember anything about this morning, Eli?”

The young man shook his head, pushing dark hair out of his eyes.  “I was…getting ready for work.  I was in the shower. I…heard a noise. After that it’s just snatches. A dark room.  I think I heard a girl scream.  Then I woke up here.”  He glanced down at the drawstring pants and soft t-shirt he was wearing. “Where did the clothes come from?”

Dean lifted a hand. “That’d be me.”

“Thanks,” Eli said, voice still uncertain. “Where am I?  What happened?  What the hell is going on?”

His stomach growled before anyone could answer and he blushed, wrapping his arms around his abdomen. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Harper said, smiling at him. “Why don’t we go eat some dinner and we’ll explain as much as we can?”

 

“You have to be kidding me. Angels?  Gods?  What is this, a Dan Brown novel?  How can you expect me to believe this crap?”  Eli pushed away from the table, glaring at everyone.

Gabriel sighed and stood up. He let a crack of lightning illuminate the room, illuminating the shadow of his massive wings against the wall. “Happy?”

Eli’s mouth fell open and he scrambled backwards.  “Holy _shit!”_

Sam rolled his eyes. “Drama queen.”

Eli pointed a shaky finger. “ _You’re_ an angel?”

“Guilty,” Gabriel said with a shrug.

“But…you’re… _short!”_

Sam burst out laughing as Gabriel glared at Eli.

“You really think height makes a difference, kid?  Besides, this is not my true form.  And no, you can’t see that, unless you _want_ smoking craters where your eyes used to be.”

Eli glanced at Castiel, still sitting calmly at the table.  “And…you’re an angel too?”

Castiel nodded.

The young man settled back into his chair. “This is insane.”

“Welcome to our lives,” Harper said, her lips curving in sympathy.

“So this guy, this Mish…whatever…he was going to eat my heart and set the world on fire?”

“Basically,” Gabriel said.

“And he’s been sacrificing different people, looking for the right…combination, or something?”

“And if he finds it, the time loop will stop and he’ll have all his powers back,” Harper finished. “Yeah.”

“So since you got me out of there, is everything going to reset tomorrow and you’ll have to do it all over again?”

Gabriel shot a glance at Castiel, who lifted a shoulder.

“We, ah…don’t actually know,” the archangel admitted.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Eli’s voice was high with shock.  “You’re a freaking _angel_ , shouldn’t you know everything?”

“Not the future, nimrod!” Gabriel shot back. “We’ve got prophets for that, and we don’t have one of those handy at the moment!”

Sam laid a hand on his arm and Gabriel shut his mouth abruptly. 

Eli rubbed his face. “I don’t believe any of this. I’m having an acid trip. An LSD flashback. I’m in a coma and I’m hallucinating all of this while everyone’s trying to wake me up.”

“He’s got a vivid imagination, I’ll give him that,” Dean commented.  Harper shot him a glare and scooted her chair a little closer to Eli’s.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” she said, “But we really are trying to protect you.”

Eli dropped his hands and sighed. “So what now?”

Everyone looked at Gabriel.

“Stay the night,” the archangel said. “We’ll see what happens in the morning.”

“Oh, that’s encouraging,” Eli muttered.

“Hey, it’s the only suggestion I have right now,” Gabriel snapped.  “Take it or leave it.  This is the safest place on earth at the moment.  I could take you home, but it’s neither hidden nor warded and I guarantee that there’s a very pissed off god rampaging around out there right now looking for your sorry ass. You want to go up against him on your own, feel fucking free!”

“Gabriel,” Sam murmured.

The archangel stood up and stalked away from the table, frustration welling within him.  Everything they’d been through that day, and it might not have made the slightest bit of difference.  He clenched his fists, staring blindly out the window.

Behind him, there were quiet voices, the scrape of chairs, and the door shutting.  Silence fell.  Then Sam’s arms came around him, pulling the angel into a gentle embrace. Gabriel let his head fall back against the hunter’s chest and sighed.

“Sorry,” he said quietly.

Sam rested his cheek against the angel’s hair.  “I’d really like to take you to bed now.”

Gabriel closed his eyes as the tension drained out of him, leaving him a little shaky.  “Sam…”

Sam’s mouth found his ear and he sucked the lobe in, setting his teeth in it lightly.  “Unless whatever you’re going to say next is some variation on ‘yes’, then I don’t really want to hear it,” he whispered.

Gabriel shivered and grabbed the hunter’s hand, dragging him toward their bed.  Sam chuckled and allowed himself to be towed across the floor.

Standing next to the bed, Gabriel reached for the top button of Sam’s shirt, but Sam caught his hands.

“Let me,” he said quietly. “Please?”

Gabriel searched his face. There was need and hunger there, but also a lingering fear.  Sam needed to take charge of this, be in control of this one thing, at least for tonight.

Gabriel went up on his toes and kissed him.  “Of course.”

Sam began unbuttoning Gabriel’s shirt, feathering kisses across every inch of skin bared. Gabriel closed his eyes, exulting in the feel of his lover’s mouth, letting go of everything that the day had held and existing solely in the moment before him.

He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders while Sam undid his belt and pushed down his pants.  Standing before his hunter naked, he cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Are you going to join this party?”

Sam smiled at him and gave him a gentle shove onto the bed.  Gabriel let himself fall backward, propping himself on his elbows to enjoy the show as Sam tugged his shirt out of his pants and dragged it over his head.

“You are gorgeous,” the angel murmured, and Sam’s smile widened.

“So are you.”  He dropped his pants and stepped out of them, eyes on Gabriel, who shifted in place and swallowed.

The hunter crawled onto the bed, lowering himself onto the angel’s prone form, fitting their lips together. Sam’s kiss was gentle, wondering, and Gabriel arched into it, his hands roving across the hunter’s skin.

Sam pressed his erection into Gabriel’s thigh and the angel broke the kiss to gasp as the hunter ground against him with a slow, dirty roll of his hips.

The cap on a bottle of lube clicked and Gabriel blinked because when had that happened?  Then Sam’s finger was nudging his entrance and he forgot to wonder, sighing and bracing his feet on the bed as the hunter slid first one, then two long fingers inside.

Sam kissed him as he worked the angel open, groaning into his mouth.  “Sorry there’s not…more foreplay…” he managed.  “Just…need you.  Need you now.”

“Then take me, Sammy,” Gabriel whispered, and Sam kissed him hard before pulling back to kneel between his legs.

Gabriel tilted his hips and Sam pressed in slowly, lip caught between his teeth.  The angel whimpered, stretched and filled, overflowing. His skin felt too tight for his body and he caught blindly at Sam’s arms, pulling him down and finding his mouth as Sam began to thrust. 

They moved in silence broken by gasps and half-spoken murmurs, Sam’s face buried in Gabriel’s throat, mouthing at the skin, the nip of his teeth driving the angel out his mind with want and need.

Gabriel groaned aloud as Sam worked a still-slick hand between then and grasped his length, stroking in time with his pistoning hips.  The fire was growing in his belly, spreading through his limbs, and he gasped brokenly, back arching off the bed as Sam kissed him roughly and he came helplessly over the hunter’s fist, moaning into Sam’s mouth as the waves of bliss swept through him.

Sam’s thrusts quickened and Gabriel leaned up, setting his teeth in the muscle of the hunter’s shoulder and biting hard enough to leave a bruise.  Sam drove deep and he climaxed without a sound, trembling violently.

Finally, he moved to pull out but Gabriel stopped him.  “Stay,” he whispered.

Sam looked down at him and smiled, kissing him slow and sweet.  “Always,” he murmured. He dropped his head next to Gabriel’s on the bed and they breathed quietly, reveling in the contact, in each other, together.

Eventually they curled up together, Gabriel’s back against the hunter’s broad chest.  Sam’s shoulders shook suddenly in silent mirth and Gabriel turned a sleepy eye on him.

“What’s funny, Goliath?”

“Sunflowers in my eyes, dude? Really?”

Gabriel groaned. “I was hoping I didn’t say that out loud.”

“Bad news,” Sam said, snorting with laughter. “Not only was it out loud, it was in front of everyone.”

Gabriel covered his face but couldn’t hide the laugh that slipped out.  “Well…you _do_ ,” he pointed out. “Have you ever looked at your eyes? They’re green, but they have this golden center, and with the pupils it looks like sunflowers in…oh, stop laughing, dammit!”

He rolled over and pinned the hunter to the bed, trying to glare but failing.

Sam grinned up at him, unrepentant. “You love me,” he said.

Gabriel cast his eyes to the ceiling. “I thought we already established that.”

“Yeah, well…it bears repeating,” Sam said, and dragged Gabriel’s head down so he could kiss him thoroughly.

 

Sam woke up the next morning to an octopus wrapped around him and no scent of bacon in the air. He lay utterly still for a moment, assessing the situation, and then grabbed Gabriel’s shoulder and shook him.

“Gabe, wake up.  Gabe, I think you did it, you son of a bitch. _Wake up!_ ”

The archangel muttered something and tightened his grip and Sam lost patience and pinched him on the ass.

Gabriel jolted upright with a yelp, rubbing the offended part of his anatomy, and then froze, looking around the room and then down at the man smiling up at him from the bed.

“Good morning,” Sam said.

Gabriel grinned widely and leaned down to kiss him.  “Morning,” he finally whispered.  “And may I say how _very_ glad I am to not be making biscuits right now.”

Sam stretched beneath him like a huge cat, almost purring.  “That makes two of us.”

Gabriel’s hand slid down the hunter’s chest and Sam caught his hand, laughing.  “Oh no you don’t.  Something tells me we’re going to have company any minute, and Harper just may kill us both if she has to see us naked one more time.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Gabriel murmured, but Sam rolled away, still laughing.

“No, you horndog,” he said, shooting an amused glance at the angel over his shoulder as he reached for his shirt. “Later, however, you are more than welcome to ravage me as much as you want.”

It was his turn to yelp when Gabriel caught him and yanked him backward onto the bed, landing on top of him in one quick motion.  “I’m holding you to that, Winchester.”  The angel leaned down and kissed him deeply, only pulling away when Sam was panting, eyes dazed and hair mussed.

“Seriously, guys?” Harper said from just inside the door, and Gabriel started laughing at the look on Sam’s face.

Swinging off his ribs, the angel offered him a hand to his feet and grinned at the young woman across the room.

“Nice day, isn’t it?” Gabriel said. “Sleep well?  How’s our guest this morning?”

“Still trying to believe this is his life,” Harper said, “But relieved to be here and not strapped to a crazy guy’s altar, so, you know.  Baby steps. He’ll be in in a few minutes.”

Sam headed for the kitchen as he dragged his shirt over his head.  “I’ll make breakfast this time.  Who wants biscuits?”

There was a collective groan from behind him and Sam chortled as Dean and Castiel came through the door, grinning widely.

“Gabe, you bastard, looks like you got something right for a change!” Dean greeted the archangel, and Gabriel bridled.

“For a change?  I get things right all the _time,_ I’ll have you know.  Ask Sam about last night, for instance.  From the noises he was making, I’d say it went very right indeed!”

Dean covered his ears. “Ew, no, abort! Sam, control your pervert! No sex talk before breakfast, dammit!”

Eli walked in on the cheerful bickering, stopping dead to stare at everyone.  Harper looked up and smiled at him, beckoning him to the couch.

“Um…hi,” he said, sitting down next to her.

“Sorry, it’s kind of a madhouse this morning,” Harper said. 

“Finally being free of a time loop will do that to ya,” Gabriel pointed out.

“Now we just have to stop the asshole responsible for the mess in the first place and we’ll be home free,” Dean said, and everyone sobered.

“Thanks for reminding us,” Harper said glumly, sliding down in her chair.  “So what _are_ we going to do about him?”

Sam started sliding fried eggs onto plates.  “Well, there’s still the spell to bind to the spear, right?  Won’t that work?”

“Theoretically,” Gabriel said. “But nothing’s certain. And I’m still not sure what that bit about the virgin in there is, but I don’t like it.  Cas, do some digging on that, would you?  I’ll start collecting ingredients.  Sammy, what do you say to a field trip?”

“You want me to come with you?” Sam asked, startled.  “Why?”

“Because…I like your company?” the archangel said.  “Because despite that floppy hair of yours, you’re actually kinda smart and I think you could be useful? Or maybe just cuz you’re pretty and I like looking at you?  And also because it’ll be fun.  It might be a combination of all four; actually.”

Dean and Harper snorted with mirth as Sam glowered at them and then turned back to Gabriel. “Yeah,” he said, “I’d like that. When do we leave?”

“Soon as breakfast is done,” Gabriel said. “It’ll take awhile and we’ll need to be ready, because the second we start putting that spell together, it’s going to trigger a massive power spike that’ll basically send up a huge neon sign for His Dickishness saying ‘Come and get us!’  So we’d better have our ducks in a row.”

“Where did that saying come from, anyway?” Dean asked as they gathered around the table. 

“Well, back in Venice in the fifteen hundreds,” Gabriel said, “The major currency was gold ducats. And when something big was bought or sold, the buyer would line up the ducats so the seller could count them and make sure he wasn’t being cheated.  Over the past five hundred years, the languages changed and the saying got mutilated, so now they say ‘ducks in a row’ instead of ducats.”

Everyone was staring at him.

“Is that actually true?” Harper finally asked.

“I have absolutely no fucking idea,” Gabriel admitted cheerfully.  “But it sounded good, didn’t it?”

The table dissolved into laughter as Sam set their food in front of them, and they all began to eat in amicable peace.


	7. Chapter 7

“Cas, before you start working on the spell, could you double-check that the house and land wards are still in order?” Gabriel asked when breakfast was over.

His brother nodded. “Of course.  Harper, I would appreciate your company.”

Gabriel pushed away from the table and held out his hand to Sam.  He winked at the others.  “Catch ya later, cats and kittens.”  His kitchen vanished and Sam gasped as they blinked into view in the middle of a desert, sand and small scrubby brush stretching as far as Sam could see. Even as early as it was, the sun held a promise of heat to come, and Sam shaded his eyes.

“Where are we?”

“Somewhere in the middle of Mexico,” Gabriel said absently.  He was moving silently toward a rock outcropping, eyes fixed on the jumble of stones at the base. He tossed a small jar at Sam, who caught it on reflex, staring at it.  “Be ready when I say,” the angel informed him.

Sam nodded as Gabriel slid around a mesquite shrub and then froze.  “Aha! Look, Sam, see it?” He pointed and Sam peered around him to see a snake with a triangular head and dusty brown scales stretched out on one of the flatter rocks, soaking up the early morning sun. “Mexican jumping viper,” the archangel told Sam.  “Stay back and be ready, okay?”

Sam swallowed and stood still as Gabriel moved closer to the unsuspecting reptile and then struck with blinding speed, catching it behind its head and hoisting its thrashing body clear of the rock.

“Jar, Sam, now,” he snapped. “Hold it steady.”

Sam held it out and Gabriel pinched the snake’s mouth until its jaw was gaping wide, then smoothly embedded the upper fangs in the cheesecloth covering the neck of the jar.  The hunter watched, fascinated, as clear venom welled up and began to drip from wickedly curved teeth into the bottom of the glass receptacle.

“Kinda cool, huh?” Gabriel said, grinning at him.

Sam smiled back. “How much do we need?”

“No clue,” Gabriel admitted. “Figure we’ll milk this baby dry and if Cas needs more, we can come back.  Shouldn’t be more than a few drops necessary, but better safe than sorry and all that.”

When he judged the viper had given all it had, Gabriel released it into the rocks.  It slithered away in a hurry, disappearing into the scenery disconcertingly fast, and Gabriel brushed off his hands.

“Next up, scorpion.”

Sam shuddered.  Most creepy-crawlies didn’t bother him, but scorpions were a bit of a deal-breaker.

Gabriel grinned at him and stepped closer, taking the jar and snapping it to a safe place.  “I’ll protect you from the scary arachnid,” he promised, and Sam rolled his eyes.

“What happens if _you_ get bit?” he countered.

“Well, first of all, scorpions sting, they don’t bite,” Gabriel informed him.  “Second, hello…archangel?  Takes a lot more than a freaking scorpion to bring me down, I promise.”

“Good point,” Sam said, lips twitching. “How many times did I try to kill you, after all?”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “Don’t remind me, pal. You’re lucky I’m clever.”

He turned and began walking across the sandy earth and Sam followed, smiling.  Teasing Gabriel was a lot more fun than worrying about dangerous creatures that could kill him with a single sting.

“Look under rocks and in the roots of the shrubs,” Gabriel instructed him.  “They like shady spots, dark and quiet.”

They hunted for several minutes in silence and then Sam caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. “Gabe,” he hissed, and the archangel was there, scooping the tiny brown creature into another jar and capping it quickly.

“Bark scorpions are one of the most venomous species of scorpion there is,” Gabriel said.  “So do me a favor and don’t get stung, okay?”

Sam swallowed and nodded. “What’s next?”

“Spider,” Gabriel said tersely. “Brown recluse, to be exact.”

“What do they look like?”

“Well, they’re usually brown,” Gabriel said, with the air of one imparting a great secret.

Sam sighed.  “Smartass.”

Gabriel gripped his wrist and tugged him into a kiss.  “You love it.”

When Sam opened his eyes, they were standing in a small bathroom with a poorly caulked window and plywood door. The hunter glanced around, confused. “Where the hell are we now?”

“Arizona,” Gabriel said. He flipped the toilet seat up and grinned in triumph as several small brown spiders scattered.

Sam jumped back. “Holy shit!  They live under _toilet seats?_ ”

“Welcome to the desert, Sammy,” Gabriel said, flicking the spiders into the jar and screwing the lid on.

“Remind me never to move here,” Sam said, shuddering.

“Oh, no worries. I don’t like hot climates,” Gabriel assured him.  “Unless it’s Tahiti or something.  Speaking of, how does a vacation after all this sound?  You, me, a couple dozen mimosas, sex on the beach?”

“Sex on the beach sounds…gritty,” Sam said.  “But definitely doable.”

Gabriel clapped his hands and they were standing in a dense jungle.  Birdcalls came from all around, the foliage so thick it blocked out the sun. A monkey chattered in the distance. The air smelled thick and rich, like bananas and greenery.

“ _Now_ where are we?” Sam demanded.

“Lacandon Jungle Preserve in southern Mexico,” Gabriel said, eyes fixed on the tree in front of him. “Need a poison dart frog.”

He was having fun, Sam realized, showing off for his hunter and in his element.  Sam smiled and followed him.  Truth be told, it was fascinating to watch Gabriel work.  When he wasn’t clowning around, he moved quickly and precisely, no motion wasted, and his speed was shocking.  It made Sam’s mouth dry, and Gabriel cast a knowing look over his shoulder.

“Ever had sex in a rainforest, kiddo?” the angel asked.

“I’ve never even been _in_ a rainforest before,” Sam said, “But I’m definitely considering the possibility now.”

Gabriel’s eyes darkened and he crowded right into Sam’s space.  “If we had time, I’d take you right here under this tree while the birds and monkeys watched,” he whispered, and Sam was suddenly shockingly hard.

He shifted, swallowing, and Gabriel yanked him down into a bruising kiss.  Sam went willingly, loving the slippery slide of their tongues and the nip of Gabriel’s teeth against his lips.  Finally Gabriel took a step back and Sam groaned at the lack of contact.

“That was…”

“Hot, I know,” Gabriel said, smirking.

“I was going to say _mean,_ ” Sam corrected him.  “But hot works too.  Damn. When this is over, we’re definitely coming back here.”

A croak sounded overhead and they glanced up.  A small bright red frog with mottled darker markings and bright eyes regarded them from a tree branch at least ten feet above them.

Gabriel pursed his lips, considering, and then he took a running start, bounced onto a large rock and landed lightly in the tree, balancing on the branch and bending down to scoop the amphibian into a small container in one smooth movement.  Then he sat down on the tree limb, kicking his feet and grinning at Sam, who was staring up at him with his mouth open. 

“Ready to go, Kilimanjaro?” he asked, hopping off the branch and landing neatly next to the hunter.

“Are we really back to the mountain ranges?” Sam asked.

“Hey, why mess with a winner?” Gabriel said.  He took Sam’s hand and in the next instant they were standing in a large garden.  “San Antonio’s Botanical Gardens,” he offered before Sam could ask. “Herbs are next on our list. I’ll get the nightshade. You get the sage.” He handed the hunter a small paper bag.

They separated, ranging down the broad grassy aisles and reading the exhibit placards.

Sam found sage easily and stuffed some into the bag.  He roamed for a while, enjoying the gorgeous plant life, until Gabriel popped into view next to him. “Hey, gorgeous,” the angel said. “Come here often?”

“I’m here with my boyfriend,” Sam informed him loftily.  “Buzz off.”

Gabriel chortled, eyes turning golden with amusement.  “I found the poisonous herbs section; nightshade’s in the bag.  Literally.”

“I got the sage,” Sam said, holding up the bag.  “Anything else?”

“A kiss?” Gabriel said, waggling his eyebrows.

Sam rolled his eyes. “You are an enormous cheeseball. You know that, right?” He bent to kiss the angel, who laughed against his mouth.

“It’s served me well enough over the centuries,” Gabriel agreed.  “Now we need wormwood.  Artemisia absinthium. Did you know it’s said to have sprung up in Lucifer’s footsteps when he left the Garden of Eden? Total bullshit, of course; I was there and no such thing happened.  Still, it’s a nice story.  Colorful.”

“Fascinating,” Sam agreed. He stooped to read a card. “Aha!  Wormwood.”  He plucked several sprays and put them in another bag.  “Next?”

“Angel’s trumpet. Fitting name, don’t you think? It’s a hallucinogenic; causes confusion, delirium and drowsiness.”  The angel pounced on a small plant with drooping flowers and picked a few off.

Sam smiled, watching him. “Where to next, o captain, my captain?”

Gabriel grinned back at him. “Told you it’d be fun.”

“Yeah, yeah, you did. Anything else while we’re here?” Sam glanced at his watch and blinked. They’d only been gone for a little over an hour. 

“Wood from an elder tree, and then some tiger eye, and we’ll be back in time for lunch,” Gabriel said, and snapped his fingers. 

They were in another part of the garden and the archangel sliced a branch off a slender tree and then zapped them to the back room of a small jeweler’s shop.

“Gabe,” Sam hissed. “We can’t just steal from some random guy.”

Gabriel flipped a hand. “Nah, he’s a douche. Cheats his customers; weights the scales, things like that.  He deserves a lot worse than us lifting a few tiger eyes off him.” He scooped up some of the golden brown stones and Sam held out both hands.  Gabriel arched a brow and poured them into the hunter’s grasp.

Sam just stared at them for a minute.

“What is it?” Gabriel asked.

“Hm?  Oh…they just…” Sam glanced up and smiled, a little sheepish. “They look like your wings.”

Gabriel stared at him, at a loss for words. 

“What?” Sam said.

“Nothing,” the archangel said hastily. “Let’s hoof it, shall we?”

Sam snorted.  “’Hoof it’?”

“Shut up,” Gabriel said, grabbing his hand.

They reappeared in the living room and everyone’s heads came up at their arrival.

“Cas, how are the wards?” Gabriel asked without preamble.

“Holding steady,” the other angel said. “Harper is tied into the system and everything is secure.”

Gabriel nodded.  “Have you briefed Dean on what’s going to happen when we start the spell?”

“Yes.”

“Good.  Dean, let Sam know what to expect.  Cas, with me.” 

Both angels disappeared, leaving Sam alone and blinking in the middle of the living room floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time, sorry, building up to the action-packed one that's next.


	8. Chapter 8

In the library, Gabriel laid out the ingredients.  Castiel inspected each, nodding in approval, making notes on a piece of paper next to the spell, muttering to himself. 

“This is good,” he finally said. “I can create the spell with this. When do you want to start?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Whenever you want, little brother. I’m flexible.”

Castiel’s lips moved as he calculated. “It’s only an estimate, but I think Mixcoatl will find us within fifteen minutes of beginning the incantation. We will need to work very fast. How long do you think it will take him to get through the wards?”

“Minutes, judging from the way he tossed me around that damn temple.  Fucker is _strong._ ”

Castiel nodded.  “And how long after that will Harper be protected?”

“No clue,” Gabriel said, sighing. “I wish we could tie Eli into the wards as well, though.”

“Too dangerous,” Castiel agreed without looking up. 

Gabriel looked at his brother, so studious, serious and kind and one of the fiercest warriors he’d ever seen, and reached out, grasping his wrist.

Castiel looked up, surprised. “Gabriel?”

“Are you happy, little brother?” Gabriel asked quietly.  “Is this the life you would have chosen for yourself, given the freedom to choose?”

Castiel blinked, considering the question. “I…cannot deny that this is not the life I would have predicted,” he finally admitted.  “The Winchesters have a tendency to change everything, turn you on your head, make you question every belief you once held dear.”

“And then some,” Gabriel agreed, a smile quirking his lips.

“But I am happy,” Castiel continued. “Dean is…”  He ducked his head and then looked up, suddenly bashful. “I am happy.”

Gabriel smiled at him and pulled him into a tight hug.  “Good. That’s all I wanted to hear.”

A door slammed downstairs and both angels glanced up.  Harper’s voice floated up the stairs, laughing at something Dean said.

“I’m going to go make sure the knuckleheads are keeping their powder dry,” Gabriel said, and winked at his brother before disappearing.

Downstairs, the hunters and Eli were gathered around the table, checking their weapons.

“You ever fired a gun?” Dean asked the young man, who shook his head.

“It’s fairly intuitive. Point and shoot. Here,” Sam said, and handed Eli his spare Beretta.  “Just…try not to shoot _us,_ yeah? Still, it’s probably best you stay back anyway.  Harper, you’re on Eli protective detail.   Keep him out of the line of fire.”

“This is crazy,” Eli muttered.

Harper just nodded, racking her gun and checking the slide with her mouth firmly compressed, eyes fierce.

“We about ready, kids?” Gabriel said. He trailed a hand across the back of Sam’s neck and the tall man leaned into his touch.

Dean held up his favorite gun and several extra clips of ammunition.  “Might not be able to kill him, but maybe we can slow the son of a bitch down long enough to give Cas time to do this.  How are we getting the spear away from him?”

“Leave that to me,” Gabriel said, digging several fingers into Sam’s shoulders and soothing away the knots gathering there.  The hunter sighed as his shoulders loosened, and picked up another gun, loading it with precise movements.

“Can I put it on record that I really don’t like this plan?” Dean said, scowling.

“Only if I can add to that record that I’d be surprised if you did,” Gabriel shot back.  “You don’t have to like it.  You just have to play your part and keep His Assholishness distracted long enough for me to do my job.”

Castiel appeared, cradling a wide, shallow brass bowl.  He set it on the counter and glanced at Dean.

 

Dean met his angel’s eyes, unable to say the words that were trapped in his throat.  They were about to literally start a war, and all Dean could think about was grabbing Castiel and running as far and as fast as possible, somewhere that evil would never find them, somewhere that they could just be alone together, forever.

He looked at his lover, willing Cas to understand what his eyes were saying, and the angel’s mouth curved. Then Castiel turned to the bowl in front of him and began to speak, long, rolling syllables in Enochian that sounded like distant thunderheads moving in.

The air seemed to thicken and tense around them, a feeling like being encased in treacle.  Not that Dean had ever _been_ encased in treacle, he thought a little wildly, but this was probably what it felt like.

Gabriel was bending over, lips to Sam’s ear and saying something no one else could hear.  Sam smiled as his hand came up and cradled the back of the archangel’s neck, pulling him down to whisper something back to him.

Gabriel snorted a surprised laugh and kissed the grin off Sam’s mouth.  “Cheeky brat,” he murmured, and Sam grinned again.

Dean glanced away, feeling as though he’d trespassed, and settled on Harper.  Her face was set, fear in her eyes but determination overriding it. Next to her, Eli was pale but still, tossed into in this insane carnival ride the Winchesters called their lives but hanging on for dear life.  Dean couldn’t help but admire the young man’s courage; most would be curled up in a ball, whimpering for their mothers, but Eli’s shoulders were set and his hands were steady.

A massive boom shook the house and the window behind Dean shattered.  Everyone ducked and Gabriel straightened, eyes glowing blue.

“That is way too soon,” he growled. “Cas, step it up, _he’s here._ ”

The hunters were on their feet, weapons in their hands, in the middle of the large room.  Gabriel stood in front of them, his angel blade in his hand, Eli surrounded by the other four as Castiel continued to chant. Smoke rose from the bowl and a foul odor came with it, stinging Dean’s nose and making his eyes water.

Another window shattered and then a third, and Dean hefted his gun.  Sam, next to him, met his eyes briefly and Dean winked at him.  Sam smiled back as the front wall of the lodge blew outward in an eardrum-shattering explosion of sound and flying debris and a tall figure stepped through the empty space where the wall had been to face them.

Castiel didn’t even pause, his voice thunderous in the suddenly quiet room.

Dean stared at Mixcoatl. _Guy was definitely a grab bag of crazy_ , he thought.  Striped with red and white paint, wearing a black mask and with feathers hanging from his tangled hair, his dark eyes shone with bloodlust and fury.

The god opened his mouth and spoke and Dean cocked his head.  It sounded sort of like Spanish, but whereas Dean could usually pick out one word in ten in most Spanish phrases, he wasn’t getting _anything_ from whatever Mixcoatl was saying.  It sounded menacing as all hell though.  _Points for presentation,_ Dean thought.  It was possible he was a little lightheaded with nerves.

Beside him, Gabriel shook his head, gripping his blade a little tighter, and answered in the same language. The syllables rolled off his tongue and the archangel seemed…taller, somehow, and although Dean would never admit it aloud, more than a little terrifying.

Mixcoatl glared at them and Dean lost patience and shot him between the eyes.  The god’s head rocked and he took a sudden step back.  Gabriel stared at Dean, who shrugged.

“Negotiations were taking too long,” he said.

They watched as the hole in Mixcoatl’s forehead healed itself and he took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders. His mad eyes settled on Dean, who swallowed hard.  Okay, so pissing off the crazy dude probably hadn’t been the best idea he’d ever had.

Then the god charged and things got a little nuts.

Dean dove to the side as Mixcoatl reached for him, rolling and coming up into a crouch as Harper shoved Eli back and Sam stayed shoulder to shoulder with her, both of them emptying their clips into the Aztec warrior.  He roared in fury and turned toward them but then Gabriel was there, knocking him backward.

They spun and twisted, moving too quickly for Dean’s human eyes to follow, and Sam gasped as Mixcoatl sank a crushing fist into Gabriel’s abdomen.  The angel shook it off and countered with a hook to the jaw that staggered the god back several more steps.

The Aztec swung his spear and Gabriel flung himself backward out of range at the last second. Then he was up and grappling with the god again, the house shuddering with the force of their blows.

The entire time, Castiel never stopped speaking, his deep voice an even, steady cadence.

Dean grabbed Harper’s arm and she jerked around to face him, eyes huge.  “Get Eli back into the library,” he said.  “Keep him in the stacks, back to the wall.  Shoot anything that comes up those stairs if we don’t say your name first.” He gave her a shove and Harper nodded, gripping Eli’s hand and dragging him toward the door.

Dean spun back around just in time to see Gabriel go flying right out the gaping hole where the wall had been. Sam grunted with the impact of the archangel’s landing but shook off Dean’s hand. 

“I’m fine,” he snapped.

The brothers stood side by side as Mixcoatl turned to face them, blood dripping down his mask from an ugly gash in his scalp that was already closing.

_Oh, shit._

Halfway up the stairs, the silence below them stopped Harper.  Above her, Eli froze too.

“What is it?” he whispered.

Harper closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her courage.  Then she shoved Eli up the steps and into the library stacks.  “Stay here,” she snapped.  “They need my help.”

“ _What?”_ Eli’s voice was strained with shock but Harper didn’t stop to argue with him, turning and running back down the stairs.  She darted down the hall and hesitated at the door to the living room.

Several guns discharged at once and then something heavy hit the door and Harper jumped as Sam fell through.

“Harp…you’re supposed to be with Eli,” he panted as she helped him up.

“Yeah well, you guys are useless without me,” Harper said, and followed him back through the door, weapon at the ready.

In the big room, Mixcoatl had Dean by the throat, the hunter’s feet dangling six inches off the ground as his face slowly turned purple.

Castiel’s voice wavered and then he ground out the last few syllables of the spell and threw himself across the counter at the god.  The angel hit him square in the back, sending all three of them sprawling, and Dean sucked in a desperate lungful of air even as he scrambled to put distance between himself and Mixcoatl.

Sam waited only long enough to make sure Dean was okay before he jumped out the hole in the wall to find Gabriel.

Castiel was toe to toe with Mixcoatl, trading vicious blows, dodging the spear and countering with his own angel blade, which seemed to hurt the god but not slow him down much.

Harper ducked around them and ran for Dean, helping him get a little further out of the strike zone. He was coughing, face dark red, but at least he was breathing.

“Cas,” he whispered.

“He’s okay,” Harper assured him.

“No, he finished the spell,” Dean croaked. “We need to get the spear and dunk it in the bowl and then Gabriel can kill him with it.”

But Gabriel was nowhere in sight. Harper looked up as Castiel grappled with Mixcoatl, gripping the spear with both hands. He ripped it away from the deity and threw it in the direction of the kitchen and the brass bowl still sitting on the counter and Harper closed her eyes for a split second and then lunged after it.

“ _Harper!_ ” Dean shouted, but the young hunter was already gone. She dodged a chair and nearly tripped over a sheepskin rug, but she made it into the kitchen in one piece and grabbed the spear.

Mixcoatl roared, making Harper’s ears hurt, and flung Castiel in Dean’s general direction, heading straight for the kitchen and his spear.

Harper gulped.  _Oh God._

The Aztec warrior rounded the counter, murder in his eyes, as Dean’s gun spoke again, every bullet finding its mark but not slowing the god down at all.

Harper slammed the spear into the bowl, submersing it in the thick green liquid gathered in the bottom, and brought it up in an arc, drops slinging from the blade to land on Mixcoatl, who jerked back and slapped at his skin.  The poison _sizzled_ where it fell and the god screamed and then charged Harper in a blind rage.

Harper had never fought with a blade before.  She was excellent in close quarters; she’d learned early on how to use leverage and chokeholds to her advantage, since she was too small to rely on brute strength. She’d developed her agility and reflexes and honed them daily, sparring with anyone who was stupid enough to go up against her.  But bladed weapons were not her forte, and she knew it.

Now, she was moving faster than she ever had before and she wasn’t sure how she was managing to avoid Mixcoatl’s blows so far.  But she was still desperately outmatched against a god, and she knew it.  She scrambled backward, dodging his first swing and feinting with the blade of the spear.  Mixcoatl jerked away and snarled but came right back, forcing her across the floor as she gave ground, praying there was nothing behind her that would trip her.

She ducked sideways, around the other side of the counter and back into the living room, avoiding another rapid swipe at her head and thrusting the blade forward.  The spear sliced Mixcoatl’s arm open and the god _howled_ , reaching for her with fingers curved like claws.

Harper danced out of range and then Gabriel was there, slamming into Mixcoatl’s back and driving him forward just as Harper shoved the spear at the god again.  It slid into his stomach with shocking ease and Mixcoatl went to his knees, clutching the haft of the weapon as it fell from Harper’s suddenly numb hands.

Silence fell, as if the very air was holding its breath.  Gabriel picked himself up from where he’d sprawled as Mixcoatl stared up at Harper, hands still wrapped around the spear.  His mouth worked but no sound emerged, and then he sagged sideways as the life left his eyes, collapsing in a heap on the floor.

The tension and thick feel to the air dissipated with a pop that made Harper’s ears ring and she sat down hard. She could hear scrambling footsteps behind her but she couldn’t take her eyes off the body in front of her.

Dean reached her first, grabbing her shoulders.  “Are you okay? Harp, talk to me, dammit, did he hurt you?  Did you get any of the poison on you?”  He checked her frantically for wounds as Harper batted weakly at him.

“I’m _fine,_ Dean, he didn’t touch me.  Stop _hovering!_ ” She pushed herself to her feet, the other hunter supporting her, and stared down at Mixcoatl. “Is he really dead?” she asked.

Castiel knelt beside the body, carefully not touching it, and finally nodded.  “He is dead.”  His voice was final and Harper let out a relieved sigh.

“Well…as apocalypses go, that was a little anticlimactic,” she said, and a slightly hysterical giggle escaped her.

“How would you know?” Dean said. “You missed the last one.”

“Good point,” Harper said, and they both started laughing.

Castiel straightened, staring at them as they clung to each other and gasped for air.  Sam climbed back into the house and rolled his eyes, heading for Gabriel.

Eli opened the door, sighing with relief at what he saw, and made his way through the destroyed furniture and other debris to sit down on the couch, which had somehow survived unscathed.

 

Sam knelt next to Gabriel, checking for injuries.  Gabriel allowed it, knowing the hunter needed the physical reassurance that he was alright and unharmed.  Eventually, Gabriel leaned over and kissed him. 

“I’m fine, Sam.  He rang my bell a few times, but I’m okay. Really.” He caught the hunter’s wrists and pushed his hands down gently.  Sam looked back at him, worry in his hazel green eyes.

“I felt how hard that bastard could hit,” he reminded the angel.  “I’m just making sure you don’t have any internal injuries.”

“If I do, I can heal them,” Gabriel pointed out.  “Dean, Harper! Stop strangling cats and get over here. Cas, a little help putting this place back together?”

Together, the angels busied themselves rebuilding the torn out wall while the hunters picked up fragmented furniture, carefully avoiding the body still crumpled on the floor in the middle of the room.

The room cleaned up like nothing had even happened, Gabriel contemplated the corpse and finally snapped his fingers and Mixcoatl’s remains vanished.

“Where did you send him?” Harper asked.

“Back to the temple,” Gabriel said. He collapsed on the couch with a sigh and flapped his hands at Sam until the hunter sat down next to him and Gabriel could rest his head in Sam’s lap.  “I may have also buried said temple under several tons of sand and bedrock. He’s not going to rise again any time soon.”  He wriggled a little, getting comfortable, and sighed as Sam slipped his fingers into his hair.

“That’s a relief,” Harper admitted, and then sat bolt upright.  “Wait! What about the spell?”

“What about it?  Worked, didn’t it?” Gabriel said, his eyes closed.

“Well yeah, but _why?_ ” Harper asked.  “What about that whole ‘blood of a virgin’ thing?”

“Oh right, that,” Gabriel said. “I figured that out while Sam and I were out getting ingredients.  It wasn’t ‘it shall drink its fill of the innocent’s blood’.  If I’m recalling correctly, it was actually ‘by the blood of the innocent shall it drink its fill’.  Meaning only someone innocent, or pure, could actually kill the douchewad and make it stick.”

Everyone stared at him in silence until he opened his eyes.

“What?” he demanded.

“You couldn’t be bothered to _tell_ any of us that?” Dean demanded.

Gabriel blinked. “I thought I did.” He glanced up at Sam. “Didn’t I?”

Sam shook his head, lips tight.

“Oh,” Gabriel said. “Uh…sorry?”

“So how come it worked for _me?_ ” Harper asked.  “I’m not…um…pure, or whatever.”

“Virginity is a ridiculously outdated concept of purity,” Gabriel informed her.  “The spell was referring to your soul, which despite everything you’ve experienced, is still remarkably innocent.”

“Oh.” Harper looked shell-shocked.

“So what happens now?” Eli asked.

They all turned to look at the young man, who’d been sitting quietly and listening to their conversation.

“What do you _want_ to have happen now?” Gabriel countered. “You have a couple of options. One – I can take you back to your apartment and you can get back to your normal life, a day older and wiser, and you’ll never see us again.  Or two – I can take you back to your apartment and take the memory of the past day from you, so you’ll never have to _think_ of us again.”

“No,” Eli said immediately. “I don’t want to forget. Too much crazy shit went down here; how could I ever choose to erase that?  I think…I think I’d just like to go home and…get on with life.” He shot a sideways glance at Harper, who was sitting quietly next to him.

Gabriel nodded.  “Alright, kid.  I can do that.”  He stood up and touched Eli’s shoulder, unfolding his wings and pulling the young man through the dimensions to his apartment’s living room in Denver.

Eli swayed, stunned. “You didn’t let me say goodbye!”

“I didn’t realize you’d _want_ to,” Gabriel said, a little startled. “Figured you’d be happy to just get out of there as quick as you could.  Or…oh. It wasn’t the boys you wanted to say goodbye to, was it?”

Eli blushed, looking at his feet.

“Right.  Want me to take you back?”

“No!” Eli looked up. “It’s…no.  It’d be weird now.  Never mind.  Just tell her I said…thanks, would you?  For looking out for me.”

Gabriel winked at him and disappeared. When he reappeared in his own living room, Harper was nowhere in sight and Sam was glaring at him.

“Ah…shit.”

“You think?” Sam asked, standing up. “You really have no concept of tact, do you?”

Gabriel winced. He felt for Harper and found her in the forest behind the lodge, leaning against a tree.  Unfolding his wings, he vanished without another word to Sam, popping up next to the young woman.

Harper yelped and jerked away. “Dammit, don’t _do_ that!”  She glared at him and the archangel offered her a conciliatory lollipop.

“Sorry?”

Harper scowled and took the candy. “I’m going to eat this,” she informed him, “But I’m still really angry with you.”

“I understand,” Gabriel said gravely.

Silence fell as Harper sucked on the lollipop and watched a squirrel in the tree above them.

“He asked me to say goodbye to you,” Gabriel finally said. 

Harper looked up.

“And he wanted me to tell you thank you. For watching out for him. I think you were the only reason he didn’t go completely off his nut while he was here.”

Harper snorted.  “With you around, it’s kind of a miracle he didn’t.”

“True,” Gabriel agreed, smiling at her. “So what are your plans now?”

The young woman shrugged. “I think it’s time for me to move on,” she admitted.  “I feel like a fifth wheel, and I’m really not a fan of that.”

Gabriel nodded.   “Listen, kiddo…we really couldn’t have done this without you.  Anything you need, ever…all you have to do is pray and I’ll answer. I promise.”

Harper’s eyes were bright but her smile was a little wobbly.  “Thanks, Gabe,” she whispered.

“Will you stay a little longer?” Gabriel asked.  “Sam’s already pissed at me for stepping in it with the Eli thing; if you take off now, I probably won’t get laid for a month.”

Harper laughed in spite of herself. “Yeah.  Yeah, you idiot, I’ll stay a bit longer.  In the interest of your sexual needs, of course, and as long as I don’t have to walk in on you guys doing it _ever again._ ”

Gabriel grinned at her. “Good.  In that case, can we please go back to the house now? I may be impervious to the cold, but you’re shivering and as previously mentioned, Sam takes your well-being seriously.”

He offered her his arm and Harper took it, smiling.

Halfway back to the lodge, she stopped, though.  “When are you going to untie me from the wards?” she asked.

“It’s already done,” Gabriel said. “I dispersed them after the Lord Psycho bit it, so you are officially free and clear.”

“Did being connected to them…help me in any way?” Harper asked diffidently.  “That might be a stupid question, but when Mixcoatl was coming at me, I felt…faster, somehow.  I’ve never been able to move so quickly, and I didn’t trip over _anything_ , despite there being crap all over the floor.”

“Oh yeah, that was due to me weaving a bit of my grace into you temporarily.  Don’t worry; it’s gone now.  But I figured you might need a tiny edge, just in case.  I meant to tell you.”

“Gabe…” Harper sighed. “Communication is a _good_ thing.  Some time you might like to try it.  Just to say you have.”

“So Sam keeps saying,” Gabriel muttered.

They stomped the snow off their feet at the door and pushed into the warmth.  Dean and Castiel were back in the armchair together, talking quietly, and Sam looked up when Gabriel and Harper entered. 

The lanky hunter took in the smile on Harper’s face, and the tight expression on his own eased. Standing, he tucked the petite woman under one arm. 

“Everything okay?”

Harper nodded and hugged him back. “It’s fine.  You hungry?”

“Hell yes!” Dean said.

“Good, because Gabriel’s cooking,” Harper said, and smirked at the startled look on the archangel’s face.

 

About three months later, in early January, there was a knock on Eli’s door.  When he opened it, Harper was standing there smiling at him.

“I just wrapped up a job in town,” she said.  “I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me.”

Eli grinned at her. “What took you so long?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Postscript of sorts: what happened after certain gods were vanquished. Also, _wing!kink!_

Sam woke up to the sounds of birds chirping.  He opened his eyes to discover that Gabriel’s bedroom had somehow morphed into a rainforest overnight.  Soft light filtered through the thick leaves and the air was rich with the smell of loam and living things. A monkey chattered overhead and Sam sat bolt upright.

The archangel in question was reclining on one elbow next to the hunter, and he chuckled. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

Sam looked around wildly.  “Gabe, what the hell?” The angel had transported them along with their entire bed, which was now nestled between several tree trunks as if it had grown there.  What seemed to be an entire acre of flowers was strewn on the mattress, making a thick carpet of blossoms.  Sam recognized dahlias and some sort of rare orchid, and…was that freesia?  He leaned closer to sniff one of the sprays of purple flowers.

“Remember this place?” Gabriel said, grinning up at him. 

Sam stared at him, pushing the hair out of his eyes and setting the flowers down. “Are you serious right now?”

Gabriel pounced, landing astride the hunter and pushing him back to the mattress. He cocked his head and grinned down at him.  “Oh, I’m very serious. And guess what? We have time now.” He shifted position a little and Sam swallowed, unable to stop his hips from lifting.

“Get down here,” he said, and Gabriel complied willingly, pressing their mouths together. Sam dragged the angel’s shirt over his head and tossed it aside, sliding his fingers up Gabriel’s ribs and enjoying the way he twitched.

“Tease,” Gabriel muttered against his lips, and Sam smiled.

He cupped the back of the angel’s head and deepened the kiss, tongue darting inside to tease and taste.  Gabriel moaned deep in his throat and Sam’s hands roamed downward again, cupping the angel’s ass in both large hands and squeezing.

“Gabe,” he panted.

The angel lifted his head a fraction, pupils blown.

“Is it…are we…”

“No one’s within two hundred miles,” Gabriel assured him.  “It’s just us and the monkeys.”

Sam snorted a laugh and pulled the angel’s head back down.  “Long as they don’t critique my moves,” he said between kisses.

He lost himself in discovering the way Gabriel reacted so beautifully to the drag of Sam’s fingers across his skin, the way the angel’s breath caught in his throat when Sam pressed his erection up against the curve of Gabriel’s ass, the way he pushed back into it, the way his head fell back and his hips jerked when Sam’s hand ghosted across his waist and down over his pajama pants to where his own hard length tented the fabric. 

“S-Sam…” he whispered.

Sam hummed and slid his hand between them, loving the heavy weight of Gabriel’s balls cupped in his palm, pressing one long finger up against the thin cotton to push on the angel’s entrance.

Gabriel gasped and ground down into Sam’s hand, lower lip caught between his teeth, eyes closed. Sam had never seen anything so beautiful, and his heart clutched.  He reached his free hand up and curved it around the back of the angel’s neck, smiling when Gabriel opened his eyes, dark with lust, and stared down at him.

“Hi,” Sam said, feeling a little silly but swamped with so much love that he didn’t care.

Gabriel looked at him for a minute and then that beautiful mouth quirked and he leaned down and kissed the hunter slow and sweet.

“Hi,” he murmured. 

Several long, aching moments later, Sam pushed himself off the mattress, sitting up until Gabriel was in his lap, legs hooked around his waist, still kissing him like there was no tomorrow.

“Gabe,” Sam managed, breath coming a little short.  “Can I…can I see your wings?”

Gabriel froze, then lifted his head.  Since that tumultuous time on the floor of the lodge after learning about Gabriel stealing Lucifer’s sword, the archangel hadn’t brought his wings out during sex. Sam wasn’t sure if it just hadn’t occurred to him or if he felt their addition would be unwelcome, and he hadn’t found the opportunity to ask.

Gabriel didn’t say anything, though.  He just unfolded the wings and brought the massive arcs of feather and bone forward, enfolding them both in a golden brown, silken cocoon.

Sam lifted a wondering hand and ran his fingers down the long, sleek pinions, loving the way Gabriel shuddered in his lap.  The hunter slid his fingers into the soft down on the undersides of the wings, feeling the graceful stretch of the long tendons and marveling at the satiny warmth that enveloped his hands.

Gabriel was trembling, arms looped loosely around Sam’s neck and his forehead pressed to the hunter’s as Sam explored. 

“Clothes,” Sam said, and they were naked in the next instant.  Sam grinned up at the angel, who smirked. “Showoff.”

“You’re just now realizing this?” Gabriel said.  He ground down on Sam’s lap, their shafts rubbing together and making them both gasp and Sam’s fingers tighten on the feathers he’d been gripping.

“Tell me you have lube handy,” Sam managed.

Gabriel rolled his eyes even as he shuddered.  “Hello? _Archangel?_ ” He snapped his fingers again and held up the bottle.

“You’re genetically incapable of not being snarky, aren’t you?” Sam gasped, yanking on a handful of pinion feathers just to watch Gabriel’s face go slack and his eyes roll back in his head.  Then he took the lube and squeezed some into his hand before wrapping his fist around both their cocks and slicking them up.

Gabriel sucked in a breath and thrust into the ring of Sam’s fingers, the slippery slide of over-sensitized skin making him groan.

Sam trailed a wet finger over his hip and down across his ass until he found the taut furled muscles at Gabriel’s entrance and pressed, ever so lightly. He loved this part, the way the angel fell apart with the touch of Sam’s finger, the way his breath stuttered and he begged wordlessly for more.  Maybe he didn’t need much prep before they made love, but Sam adored teasing him too much to stop, loved the whimpers and pleas that were even now falling from his lips.

Finally he couldn’t take it anymore.  Lying back, he grabbed Gabriel’s hips, lifting him into position and then pressing upward.  The blunt head breached the inner ring of muscle with ease and Gabriel groaned, sinking down.

Sam bit his lip, hoping the pain would center him before he lost the battle with his willpower and came then and there.  His hands bit down hard on the angel’s hips, steadying them both as he sank deeper inside.

When he was fully seated, his pelvis flush with Gabriel’s ass, he took a shaky breath. Gabriel looked down at him, whiskey brown eyes full of awe.  His wings flexed above them, filtering out the sunlight and keeping them hidden inside their tiny golden bubble.

Sam reached up and dragged his fingers through the feathers again and Gabriel tensed and whimpered.

“ _Move,_ ” Sam commanded, and Gabriel obeyed wordlessly, rising up and then sinking back down, clenching tight and spasmodically around Sam’s length.

He set a slow, filthy rhythm as Sam explored his wings, the hunter grinding his teeth against the sensations roaring through him and struggling to stay focused on the trembling sweeps of bone and muscle around him.

The pressure was building under his skin, making his thrusts scattered and offbeat. Gabriel met the driving upward of his hips with a smooth, dirty roll every time he bottomed out, and finally Sam couldn’t take it anymore.  He gripped Gabriel’s shaft and began to stroke, fast and desperate, until the angel was shaking apart, crying out and coming in hot jets across Sam’s stomach, mouth loosely shaping the hunter’s name.

Sam drove up again and then again, and then he was climaxing too, bliss rocketing through his nerves as he spilled deep inside his lover’s welcoming body.

Only then did Gabriel collapse, folding forward onto Sam’s chest with a heartfelt groan. Sam just held him, relearning how to breathe.

“Gonna be the death of me, Sam Winchester,” the angel murmured against the hunter’s skin, and Sam smiled.

“But what a way to go,” he teased, and Gabriel sighed in agreement, arms tightening around his lover.

Finally the angel sat up and retrieved their clothes, handing Sam’s to him with a diffident air.  Sam eyed him as he got dressed.

“Okay, what’s up with you?”

Gabriel _squirmed._ Sam stared, taken aback. He’d seen his angel discomfited before, but this…he seemed different.  _Nervous,_ almost.

“Gabe, you’re kind of freaking me out,” Sam said, shifting on the mattress.

“I have something for you,” the archangel said.  He snapped his fingers and a small box fell in Sam’s lap.

The hunter stared down at it for a minute.  It was too large to be a ring box _(and how much of a girl_ are _you,_ his subconscious wanted to know) but Sam suddenly couldn’t breathe.

“Open it,” Gabriel said, twitching his wings with impatience.

Sam swallowed and lifted the lid.  A dark brown wide leather cuff was nestled inside, a single gleaming tiger eye gem set into the band.  It was masculine and gorgeous and Sam couldn’t speak.  He looked up at Gabriel, speechless.

“You said they match my wings,” the archangel said.  “I thought…” He shrugged, feathers rustling.

Sam stared back down at the cuff, still lost for words.  He traced the sleek curve of the stone with a finger, awed.

“Do you like it?” Gabriel asked.  He sounded… _uncertain_ , not quite meeting Sam’s eyes _._

Sam grabbed the archangel’s shirt and pulled him into a long kiss. Gabriel returned it willingly, hands sliding through Sam’s hair as he crawled into the hunter’s lap.

“I love it,” Sam finally gasped.  He pulled away enough to pick the cuff up as Gabriel straddled him, and the angel helped him fasten it around his wrist.

“Thank you, Gabe,” the hunter said.  “But I don’t have anything for you.”

“Yeah you do, Sammy,” Gabriel murmured, and kissed him again.

Sam reached down and grabbed one of the orchid blossoms off the bed, tucking it behind the archangel’s ear and grinning when Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“It suits you,” he said, and then the angel was kissing him, smelling like rainforest and flowers and every good thing, and Sam forgot to think for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where I add the usual things, which I'm getting pretty good at by now.
> 
> 1\. Thank you for reading! Your comments and kudos make me so happy, because I'm needy that way.
> 
> 2\. My beta, [DisheveledAngelInATrenchcoat](http://disheveledangelinatrenchcoat.tumblr.com), is the best beta a girl could ever hope for and an even better friend. You should be following her main blog, [Musings of the Hawk](http://oliverclintonstilinskiwinchester.tumblr.com) because she's just that fabulous.
> 
> 3\. This concludes Continuum but not the Never Ever 'verse. I have one more story (at least) in the works for this world, but it's on hold right now because Coffee Cake has taken over my brain and left no room for anything else.
> 
> 4\. You can always find me on Tumblr too, at [GreyMichaela](http://greymichaela.tumblr.com) for SPN content and things that make me giggle.


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